Free Havoc by Linda Gayle Page B

said something that made her laugh.
    Well, if they hadn't fucked, they'd come damned close. He knew the symptoms.
    He'd been with Kels long enough to see him sweep more than a few women out of their gravity boots. It was more than his rough good looks and charm; it was his basic kindness. Plenty of fellas bore black eyes or worse from his fists, but women sensed almost immediately that they were safe with him, and in this crazy SenVerse, that was a rare thing.
    Elion understood the basis for Kels's attitude, though he doubted many others did. Kels had watched his family die toward the end of the Great Conflicts, the decades-long human-alien wars brought to Earth by the Primes. Kels said he never wanted to return to Earth, but still, it was clear those experiences had opened his heart, not closed it as they had so many others. Elion supposed it was just one more reason why he loved his boss. There were a lot of bitter, angry, greedy humans in the SenVerse, but Kels Havoc was not one of them—well, greedy, maybe, but not the rest. And Elion would kill anyone who tried to destroy his decent soul.
    Which made him narrow his eyes at Sayal Iluma. Something about her didn't jibe. She was too pretty, too perfect, too everything. Crack, he preferred fucking men, and even he got a hard-on around her. She was just the type of woman to twine Kels around her little finger and ruin everything. Not that they had that much, at the moment, other than a history together, a friendship that had survived disaster, financial ruin, near death in the cold reaches of space more times than he could count.
    Elion lit a cig and dragged on it to settle his nerves. Kels and Sayal had stopped at a food vendor, and he was buying her something to eat. Elion shook his head. If there were booths with flowers and candy, Kels'd be buying those too, the big idiot.
    Tired of waiting in the shadows, he wound his way through the stream of Quitzae to the captain's side. “Thanks, I would like something to eat,” he said.
    Kels grinned. “There you are. I was wondering where you'd got to."
    "I was watching you two strolling down the boulevard. Couple of lovebirds. What would Keeva think if she saw you now?"
    The only sign of Kels's displeasure was a slight tightening around his mouth. “She'd think I was making smart business,” he said, then dipped his head closer to Elion. “Did you?"
    "Did I what?” Elion asked, pushing the cig to the corner of his mouth and pointing to a picture of a wrap similar to Sayal's. The Quitza vendor's whiskers twitched as he put it together with busy pink paws.
    "Make business. Any customers?"
    "Yeah.” He took the wrap and tossed his cig. “I've got a hundred crates of hool and two hundred of cigs that need transport."
    "Hool and cigs?” Kels wrinkled his nose. “Saints, is that the best we can do?"
    "On Aleut Station it is. Look, at least it's something. It's M'Tal, and he's willing to pay seventy percent up front."
    He could see Kels calculating in his mind. “Least that'll buy our fuel to the Zone. All right. Now all's we need is the ship."
    "I have the patch,” Sayal said, proving she had been listening in.
    "Hush.” Kels handed the Quitza four bits of iron and led them aside. “Not so loud with the patch, princess. Lots of busy ears around here, and plenty of them lead back to Ulvik."
    "I'm sorry.” Sayal had the decency to look chagrined.
    Elion said, “Let's see it."
    "Well, I...I do have it with me, but..."
    Elion held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. Looking around first, she withdrew a small plastiseal pouch from her pants pocket. Now it occurred to him that she'd changed, and up close, he realized Kels's clothes had been processed. Yeah, they'd fucked. Masking his dismay, he turned the patch over in the weak overhead lights. It didn't seem like much, like a bit of poorly cut gauze smeared with some sort of paste.
    "Are you sure about this?” He handed the patch to Kels, who gave it back to Sayal without