Lyk (The Vartik King Chronicles #7)

Chapter 1

LYK

“I’m telling you, if we knock this vessel over, we’ll be doing the whole quadrant a favor.”

His second-in-command, Celdrake Jamar, had an excited sparkle in his eyes.

Or maybe that sheen was due to the ocular implants he was so proud of.

The cyborg often scouted opportunities and brought them back to Lyk for execution.

Lyk had the final say, as was only right. He was the captain, after all.

“Who does the vessel belong to?”

Celdrake smiled. “I’m glad you asked. Ever heard of Rigel Rigellus?”

Lyk almost choked on his sip of the brew. “Rigel Rigellus. As in, the man who owns half the brothels on Venus?”

“That’s the one. According to the member of his crew I overheard drunkenly boasting, he’s got a shipment headed from our asteroid to the Rings. Luxury items.”

It made sense that Rigellus would be bringing luxury items to the Rings.

A team of engineers had managed to build a miraculous city among the chunks of ice and debris that circled Saturn, and only the most well-heeled could afford to live there.

People with money had expensive tastes, which meant they required a near-constant stream of costly furnishings, clothing, and accoutrements.

What didn’t make sense was the fact that Rigellus was starting off from Gamma-17, which was the opposite of luxury. Lyk was certain he wasn’t picking up his cargo there—unless it wasn’t items he was gathering.

“Fucking filthy slaver.” He spit the words out of his mouth, his stomach turning.

Trafficking was one crime Lyk would never touch.

There had been whispers before about Rigellus and his massive profits, not to mention where the beings that filled his brothels came from.

It only made sense that he’d bring along something that would fetch a far heftier price.

Celdrake frowned. “You think he’s picking up live cargo here?”

“Nothing else makes sense. There’s nothing with resale value that comes from this asteroid. Nothing except the down and out who pass through here, the ones without anyone to miss them if they disappear.”

“So you agree with me. We take Rigellus’s ship.”

Lyk took another drink, waiting with his confirmation.

Rigellus was scum, pure and simple, but he was well-connected scum.

Then again, Lyk was already an outlaw, so it wasn’t like this score would put the first black mark on his already tarnished record.

Still, it paid to be cautious. “I want to know what weapons we’re going up against. Keep snooping around the crew.

I want as much information about that vessel as we can get before it takes off. ”

“No problem, Captain.” The cyborg tapped on the bar for another round of the brew.

Celdrake looked like any other human—if you didn’t look too closely.

Then you might begin to notice how his skin didn’t exactly match all the way around.

Some patches were slightly lighter, highlighting that they were artificial in nature.

Those with wealth could afford WonderSkin? but Celdrake shopped exclusively on the black market for his upgrades.

Which meant someone could spot the fact that he was half-machine if they knew what to look for.

The barkeep, a male from Tako-B, used a tentacle to push the glasses across the bar toward them.

“To a fat pigeon, ripe for the taking,” Celdrake said, holding up his glass in a toast to their future victory.

Lyk acknowledged the toast and lifted the glass to his lips, freezing when a new figure entered the tavern and looked around, a determined expression on her face.

She had the face of an angel, but Lyk was fairly certain she was human.

Waves of light brown hair framed a beautiful face.

The rest was pulled back in a bun resting against her delicate neck.

Her clothes were baggy and utilitarian, but even they couldn’t hide the fabulous curves lurking beneath.

Arousal shot through Lyk as he watched her.

The female singled out the scantily clad waitress, Muriel, who’d spent the last half hour chatting up one of the better-dressed guys in the tavern.

She said something, to which Muriel nodded then jerked her head in the direction of the bar where Lyk and Celdrake were standing.

The female turned in his direction, her eyes locking on his and sending an electric shock through his system.

Making a beeline toward him, the beauty came to a stop right before Lyk. He noticed her face bore an imperfection, a red mark that covered much of her left cheek. Somehow, the imperfection made her even more stunning.

“Are you the Raven?” she asked, her no-nonsense tone tinged with anger.

“Who wants to know?” Celdrake replied with his usual gruffness, but Lyk decided not to play their usual game and nodded instead, making the cyborg’s eyes widen in surprise.

The female looked him up and down. “Give me back my heirloom,” she demanded.

Lyk stood there, confused. “Your heirloom?”

She nodded. “Don’t play coy. I know you have it, and I want it back!”

Lyk had no idea what she was talking about. He’d never seen the female before, let alone whatever heirloom she was seeking. But there was something about her that appealed to him. Something that made him want to keep her around.

“I’m afraid there’s been some mistake,” he said with what he considered a cordial smile on his face.

Apparently, the female didn’t take kindly to his form of cordiality. “There’s been no mistake. Give it back to me.”

Celdrake chuckled next to him, amused by the interaction unfolding in front of him. He wasn’t the only one. The barkeep was riveted by the exchange, and the waitress wasn’t hiding her delight either. Lyk made a mental note to have a stern chat with each of them.

“I don’t have it, whatever it is you think you lost.”

“I didn’t lose it!” Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining with indignation. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “You stole it. And your lies aren’t going to make me go away!”

Lyk admired her spirit. He was a dangerous man, yet this small female had no fear of him.

She repeatedly poked him in the chest with her index finger to accentuate her point, and every touch made sparks of electricity light up his insides.

Where every woman before her had failed, this spitfire succeeded.

She’s charmed the Raven.

He grabbed her hand, meaning to bat it away. Instead, he held it gently, unable to help himself. “Listen here, little girl. I’ve been called many things in my life, including a thief, but in this case, the name doesn’t fit. I don’t have whatever you’re looking for.”

“I’m not a little girl,” she growled, unamused by his condescending tone. She ripped her hand from his grip and grabbed the drink he was still holding in his other hand. Without hesitating, she tossed it straight into his face. Then she turned on her heel and walked right out of the tavern.

Celdrake and the barkeep had twin expressions of shock on their faces. Without warning, Celdrake burst into high-pitched laughter. Doubling over, he clutched his stomach as he howled his delight.

Muriel came over, offering him a rag with a chuckle. Lyk mopped at the brew that splattered his face and the front of his clothing. Despite his dousing, Lyk was elated.

Who was that female? And how do I see her again?

When Celdrake managed to get control of himself, he asked Lyk about the encounter. “What did you do to that one? I’ve seen some scorned females in my time with you, Captain, but never one you pissed off so excessively. What did you do? Fuck her sister?”

Lyk rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know that female.”

“Your reputation precedes you, it seems,” Muriel said.

Celdrake put an arm around her, leering down her top. “The Captain is a bit of a playboy, but you seem like the type to need a one-woman man.”

Muriel removed his arm and gave him a knowing look. “And that man isn’t you. I’ve seen you parade down the street outside with a woman on each mechanical arm.”

Celdrake laughed. “What can I say? You’re twice the woman that either one of them is.”

Lyk cut through their small talk, his focus still on the female who’d had the audacity to throw a drink in the Raven’s face. “Who was she?”

Muriel shrugged. “She’s not the type to come into a dive like this. But I have seen her around the neighborhood a time or two in the last few months. She works odd jobs, probably trying to make enough to keep a roof over her head, like most of us.”

“Do you know where she lives?”

She shook her head. “I have seen her down at the Pede Plant, though.”

Lyk hid a grimace of disgust. Some beings considered the giant centipede a delicacy, but he couldn’t stand the things. They not only gave him the heebie-jeebies, but the meat reminded him of rancid flesh. The thought of going to the centipede processing plant made bile rise in his throat.

Still, if she were there…

“I can help keep that roof over your head, pretty one,” Celdrake said into Muriel’s ear. “I’m very generous.”

Muriel turned away with a laugh. “I know exactly how generous you are. In the last three years, you’ve left exactly two credits in tips. So forgive me if I find your brand of generosity lacking.”

She swished away, leaving Celdrake shaking his head. “I love it when they play hard to get. Don’t you, Captain?”

Lyk didn’t answer. He was still considering his earlier interaction with the human female. What of hers could she think I have?

Although it was likely unwise, he made up his mind to solve the riddle of the missing heirloom. Lyk wondered why she thought he had whatever it was she thought he had. She’d called it an heirloom. That would mean it was likely something old, something with personal significance.

If Muriel was right, the female didn’t have two credits to rub together. Which meant whatever was missing, it couldn’t be that valuable or she certainly would have sold it now to pay the rent.

Unless… Unless it’s so valuable that she couldn’t bear to part with it unless her life depended on it.

Lyk frowned, not liking the idea of the female being in danger. He’d spent only a couple moments with her, and already, he was feeling protective. That didn’t bode well.

He was a starship captain, a privateer. Or a pirate, depending on your point of view. His career didn’t exactly lend itself to stability. And a relationship required stability.

A relationship? You barely know the girl.

That might be true, but Lyk was already hooked. There was something about her, something that made him want to know her better.

No. There’s something about her that makes me want to pull her into my arms and not let go. Something that makes me want to drag her to a quiet place and bury myself in her for the next three lifetimes. There is something about her that makes my Vartik blood scream to claim her.

Maybe she was just as dangerous as he was.

Lyk threw a few credits on the table, then headed out of the tavern. The spaceport where his vessel was parked was only a few blocks away. Lyk kept his eyes peeled as he walked, hoping to see the female again, but unfortunately, she remained a mystery.

Letting himself into the ship, Lyk made for his cabin. Only a shower would remove the lingering dregs of the brew. He stripped, tossing his dirty clothing in the central processing unit for cleaning. Turning on the water, he looked at himself in the mirror.

He was tall, muscular, bronzed. The Vartik Kings were superior physical specimens.

Their mental acuity was just as advanced, with powers that set them apart from other beings in the galaxy.

His skin was decorated with a few scars from past battles, giving him a roguish air. He was a force to be reckoned with.

And yet, that force might be no match for a small, spirited female with a grudge.