Rillian held Dayna’s limp body in his arms, trying to regain some control. Drakking stars.

She’d brought him to his knees. He dropped down to sit on one of the pool steps and gently pulled her into his lap, stroking her back.

Her eyelids fluttered and she curled into him in a very un-Dayna-like way. She murmured something unintelligible, and he smiled. He very much liked wearing Dayna Caplan out.

He stroked a hand down her spine and she turned more to give him better access.

Then he paused.

Golden markings glowed at the base of her neck, spreading out across her skin. They were alien symbols.

He thumbed them, his body tense.

“What?” She looked over her shoulder, moving lazily against him.

“There are alien markings on your skin. Beneath the skin, I should say.”

She sat up. “What?”

“They’re glowing the same color as your symbiont.” That drakking witch. Rillian really wished she was still alive so he could kill her himself.

Dayna pushed her hair forward over her shoulder. “What do they say?”

He stroked the wet silk of her hair and thumbed the markings. “Drak.” It couldn’t be.

She wriggled. “What?”

“Dayna, I think these are the missing piece of the Zaabha map.”

“Seriously?” She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide.

“I think the witch inscribed the last piece of the map on your skin.” He lifted her, and with water streaming off both of them, carried her inside. Setting her by the bed, he strode into his large walk-in wardrobe. He found his black robe and grabbed another for Dayna. After slipping his on, he moved to her and felt a spurt of annoyance at having to cover up that lovely body. It was too big, but she belted it and folded the sleeves up.

“Sit on the bed and loosen the robe a little.”

She complied, and he grabbed his communicator. He pushed the robe off enough that he could take clear pictures of the markings. Then he tugged the silky fabric back over her golden skin.

He showed her the screen and her gaze narrowed. She fingered the markings on the image.

“They’re almost pretty,” she said. “If they didn’t possibly lead to a hellish arena.”

Rillian tapped the screen, accessing the data he had on the stone map that Neve and Corsair had recovered from the witch.

“Let’s see if these symbols piece together with the other map.” He set his program to run, images whizzing quickly over the screen.

No match.

He released a breath. “They don’t fit.”

“Maybe the tattoos are something else.” Dayna frowned, wrapping her arms around herself.

Rillian swiped his screen, putting through a call.

A second later, an angry face appeared on the screen. “This had better be life or death.”

Zhim, Carthago’s premier information merchant, had an impressive scowl. His dark hair tumbled around his shoulders and he was shirtless.

Ryan’s head popped in from the side and she rolled her eyes. Her black hair was pulled back in a messy bun. It looked like the Earth woman was wearing Zhim’s shirt. The blue fabric swamped her tiny body

“Ignore him,” Ryan said. “He means, ‘hello, it must be important. How can we help?’”

Zhim crossed his arms. “No, I don’t.”

“Hang on a sec,” Ryan said.

Rillian waited, hearing rustling from off screen. Ryan returned, her hair a little tidier and wearing a smaller shirt. It had something written on it.

If you break it, I’ll fix it, but it will cost you.

Rillian swallowed a grin. He couldn’t have found a better match for Zhim.

“Hi, Ryan,” Dayna said quietly.

“Dayna. Hope you’re okay?” The woman’s dark eyes took in Dayna and Rillian’s matching robes and she grinned.

A faint flush filled Dayna’s cheeks. “I’m…fine.”

“We are sorry to interrupt,” Rillian said. “But we discovered something that could be important.” He told the pair about Dayna’s tattoos.

Zhim’s scowl morphed into a look of concentration, his nebula-colored eyes glowing. There was nothing Zhim liked more than getting his hands on new information.

Both geniuses turned to the comp screens behind them and started tapping.

“Can you send the images through?” Zhim asked.

“I already have,” Rillian replied.

“Got them.” Ryan made a few small humming noises and Zhim leaned over his lover’s shoulder.

Rillian picked up Dayna’s hand and squeezed. “I tried to see if the markings slotted in with the map, but got nowhere.”

“It’ll be encrypted,” Ryan said. “I’m running some of our decryption algorithms.”

Zhim nodded, his fingers flying over the screen. “Enhancing now.”

As Rillian watched the pair, he realized how well matched they were. The small, intelligent woman from Earth, and the wealthy, arrogant information merchant. Zhim glanced down at Ryan, and the woman winked at him. There was a smile on Zhim’s lips, and while he hadn’t softened exactly, he seemed less harsh than he had been before. Happier.

“Got it.” Ryan pumped a fist into the air.

On the screen, Rillian watched the map shimmer, and the alien markings off Dayna’s skin slide around and fit into it.

“Overlaying on aerial images of the desert,” Zhim said.

Rillian now saw a glowing blue dot marked deep in the desert west of Kor Magna.

“It’s in the Plain of Burning Sands,” Zhim said. “Horrible place.”

Rillian had never been there, but he’d heard the terrible stories of the endless heat, and sand so hot it melted anything that touched it.

“Tell Galen,” Rillian said. “I’ll have my pilots prepare my desert ship.” Minerals in the desert sand didn’t mix well with ship engines. Most travel in the desert was confined to simple vehicles or beasts. The more complex the engine, the more the sand clogged it up. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“Rillian,” Zhim’s voice was grim. “I have scans of this area from two weeks ago. There was nothing there.”

Dayna leaned forward. “There must be something. We have to find it. We have to save Ever and Sam.”

Zhim gave a single nod. “I’ll tell Galen to prepare to leave in the morning. Good luck.”

* * *

Dayna fidgeted in her seat, staring out at the endless yellow sand they were flying over. Rillian sat beside her, expertly piloting the ship. She watched his long-fingered hands move easily over the controls.

Was there anything the man couldn’t do?

Her gaze drifted over that face that she could look at all day. She was falling for Rillian. She let out a breath, warmth filling her belly. She was falling for a sexy, dangerous man who never let anyone get too close.

Well, watch out, Mr. Gazillionaire, because I’m pretty stubborn when I want something.

Murmurs from behind them caught her ear, and she glanced back. The atmosphere in the ship was tense. Galen, several of his gladiators, Magnus, and Corsair and Neve were seated in the passenger area. The elegant ship hadn’t been designed with massive shoulders and huge bodies in mind, so it was a tight fit.

When Dayna looked back out of the front window, the only thing out there was hot, baking desert. Memories shimmered and bile rose in her throat. She swallowed, and thought of Ever and Sam instead. She hoped the pair were holding on. Dayna knew the horrors of Zaabha, and she wanted nothing more than to free the women. Hold on a little longer.

But there was something else Dayna wanted. Revenge.

She patted the laser pistol holstered at her hip and the sheathed knife she’d borrowed from Rillian’s weapons collection. She’d been a cop most of her adult life. She knew revenge wasn’t right or polite or nice. But in this situation, she didn’t care. The Thraxians and Zaabha were going down.

“Approaching the coordinates,” Rillian said.

Dayna stared ahead, clenching her hands on the arms of her seat. She squinted against the bright sunlight, but there was nothing. Just sand, sand, and more sand.

Her gut clenched. “I can’t see anything.”

“I don’t, either,” Rillian said grimly.

Maybe this was a wild-goose chase. Dayna drummed her fingers on the armrest. Maybe the witch was messing with them from beyond the grave.

Neve appeared at Dayna’s shoulder, leaning forward. A muscle worked in the woman’s taut jaw. “There’s nothing here.”

“We’ll find her.” Dayna gripped Neve’s arm. “You’re not alone in this. We won’t stop until we find your sister and Sam.”

Neve looked down, her unique green eyes pale against her darker skin. She nodded.

“We’re here,” Rillian said. “Landing now.”

He set the ship down, and when the ramp opened, a wave of baking-hot air filled the ship. The gladiators stood, and Galen was the first out of the door, Neve close behind him.

“Here.” Rillian wound a length of beige cloth around Dayna’s neck and head. “It’s made from a high-tech fabric that reflects the sunlight.” He’d already put his on, looking like some sexy desert sheikh.

“Thanks.”

His thumb brushed her cheek, then he turned and ducked outside. She followed and blinked against the sunlight.

“The sand here is high in a certain mineral that absorbs more heat,” Rillian said. “That’s how the Plain of Burning Sands got its name. Be careful.”

Nodding, she scanned their surroundings. Low dunes and more scalding sand. No wild desert arena, no trapped fighters, no bloodthirsty spectators.

“There’s nothing here.” Despair gripped her chest. Dayna closed her eyes and memories of imprisonment assailed her. Cages, screams, the cheers. And the witch’s laugh as she’d fed on Dayna’s energy.

“Dayna?”

Rillian’s cool voice broke the spell. She was free. She was making the choices in her life now. “I’m okay. Let’s look around.”

As she moved across the sand, she glanced up at the hot suns blaring down on them. Ahead, she saw Neve angrily kick sand into the air. Corsair was there, wrapping an arm around his woman and pulling her close.

Dayna fisted a hand and pressed it against the symbiont stone between her breasts. Maybe the women were dead. Maybe all the Zaabha prisoners were dead. Maybe there was nothing left to find.

A hand rested on her nape and squeezed. She leaned into Rillian, absorbing his strength. She so rarely leaned on anyone, but with him…it felt good.

“Zaabha has been hidden for years,” he said. “It was never going to be easy to find.”

Galen appeared. “We will find it. There must be something here.”

Dayna looked around again. Sometimes on her cases, it was the smallest thing that had led to a breakthrough. The thing most people overlooked.

“Fan out and search for anything,” Galen said. “No matter how inconsequential.”

With a nod, Raiden turned, his red cloak flapping in the desert breeze. The other gladiators followed him, and he ordered them into a search pattern.

Dayna walked with Rillian, searching the sand. Then he lifted his head, glancing off toward the west, his gaze narrowed.

She paused. “What?” She looked around. “What did you see?”

“Nothing.” He frowned. “I didn’t see anything, but for a second, I felt something.”

Felt something? Dayna looked around again. She felt the hot wind and the heat radiating off the sand. “I don’t feel anything.”

His eyes flashed silver. “I’m not sure what it is, but my symbiont senses something.”