“Good try, but I don’t believe you. You don’t think that far ahead.”
He took a deep breath. “Do you remember that time last year?”
“What time?”
“The time I saved your worthless life. At great personal risk to myself.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So bloody well reciprocate.”
A shaft of burning pain shot through his leg and he jumped, then stared down in disbelief at the arrow sticking out of his calf, an inch below the knee. “I’ve been shot,” he said.
“Shot? By what?”
“By a big fucking arrow. Get down here. Now.”
He yanked the arrow from his leg and flung it to the forest floor. “Or you’re fired,” he added and shut off the connection.
His pursuers were close now, so close he could hear the fierce crackle of flames mixed with the rise and fall of excited voices. He ignored the pain in his leg and took off through the trees again. A few minutes later, he skidded to a halt.
Straight in front of him, the land fell away abruptly. He peeked over the edge. A long way below, water roared. A lot of water. A lot of cold water. He hated cold water. He searched the sky for any sign of Tannis, but a thick layer of cloud obscured the moons and he saw only darkness. He jammed his finger onto the comm unit. “You here yet?”
“Have a little patience. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Great, just great. The problem is, I might not be here in five minutes.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic. Just hold on.”
He stared over the edge into the dark, turbulent water. “Hold on to what?”
A low snarl sounded behind him. With a sigh of resignation, he turned to face his pursuers. They emerged from the shadowy tree line, torches held in front of them, before fanning out to form a semicircle around him.
One of the hounds crept toward him, belly close to the ground, growling softly. It reminded Rico a little of the dogs back on Earth, probably even had some real dog DNA in there somewhere. Rico growled back, baring his fangs. The animal got the message, turned tail, and ran.
A tall man stepped forward to stand at the center of the group. He wore the long black robes of a priest, and Rico groaned. Not heathens after all. Bloody religious fanatics. He should have expected it.
When man had fled to the stars nearly a thousand years ago, the old religions had gone into an abrupt decline. By the year 2600, they had all but vanished from the universe, and good riddance as far as Rico was concerned.
But that had changed with the discovery of Meridian.
A rare, radioactive element with the ability to bestow immortality on those lucky enough to afford its exorbitant price, Meridian heralded the evolution of a new class—the Collective. Super rich and virtually indestructible, the Collective quickly gained power. Now, they ruled most of the civilized universe.
But while not everyone could afford Meridian, everyone wanted immortality, and the old religious beliefs had gained a new popularity. The Church of Everlasting Life offered a cheaper, if less reliable, alternative with its promise of an afterlife in paradise.
On these isolated outer planets, the Collective’s influence was slim and the Church took advantage of that and jumped in to fill the gap. A shudder of loathing ran through him. Rico had no feelings either for or against the Collective, but he hated the Church as only someone who had lived through the Inquisition could.
“Son of Satan,” the priest cried, and the mob behind him roared.
Rico rolled his eyes. “We’re not actually related.”
A second man stepped forward, dragging a girl with him, and the priest grabbed her hair, tugged back her head. In the flickering light, Rico saw the puncture wounds in her ivory neck and had a flashback to the sweet taste of her blood.
“I have been ordained by God,” the priest said, “for the punishment of the wicked and the eradication of evil.”
“Get a life,” Rico muttered. “Look, it’s honestly no big deal—the marks will heal in a couple of days. You won’t even know I was here.”
His words didn’t seem to impress them. Of course, the Church was rarely impressed unless they were slaughtering innocents, and Rico was the first to admit he hadn’t qualified as an innocent in numerous lifetimes. If ever.
Five men stepped forward, and Rico watched them warily. They raised their bows, cocked their wooden arrows. Drew them taut and aimed them straight at his heart.
Rico glanced over his shoulder at the icy water below. He was going to have to jump. “Shit.”
He tensed himself, ready to dive over the edge, just as the sky filled with noise and light. His gaze shot upward. He released his breath. The shuttle hovered above them, and a laser beam shot out, cutting the ground between him and the archers. A voice boomed from the open hatch.
“Lower your weapons.”
But they were already edging backward. The shuttle flew lower, almost touching the ground, and Rico lunged for the open hatchway. “About bloody time.”
The mob was almost back in the trees now, but at the last moment, the girl pulled free and raced toward the shuttle. She stared up at them, imploring. “Take me with you, Rico.”
He looked at Tannis, raised an eyebrow.
“No freaking way.” She reached across and slammed her palm to the door panel.
Rico had a last brief glimpse of the girl. He hoped she’d be okay, that her people would treat her as a victim, though she’d hardly been reluctant.
“What took you so long?” he growled as the hatch slid shut behind him and the shuttle sped away from the planet.
Tannis swiveled her chair to face him. She ran a hand through her short, dark hair and raised one brow in accusation. “Been eating the natives, Rico?”
“Dios, I go out for a snack and all I get is hassle. I’ve got to eat.”
He hobbled across and sank into the seat next to her, rubbing his leg and tossing Tannis a wounded look. His ship’s captain was no Florence Nightingale, but dammit, his leg hurt. “They shot me.”
“Aw, poor baby.” She uncoiled her lean body from the chair and came to stand over him, her cold, yellow eyes looking him over. Reaching down, she tore open his pants leg. The bleeding had already stopped, the wound healing over. “You’ll live.”
He frowned. “So what kept you?”
“While you were down there playing, I got us a job.”
“Legit?”
“Shit, no.”
His mood lightened. “Dangerous?”
“For this sort of money, it’s probably going to kill us.”
He grinned. “Sounds like my sort of job.”