For some reason, as Rafe trotted across the top part of the tunnel’s arch, a song he’d heard on Earth came to mind, Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling.” Now, he should note, he didn’t dance on the ceiling—he ran—but still, if he were a man to sing, he might have burst into song—mostly to throw off his attackers.

Some might wonder how Rafe achieved such a feat. To that he replied, accessorizing.

There were certain things a pirate invested in. He invested in a good intelligence network. He procured a good ship, AKA stolen, and kept it in tiptop shape. A privateer also made sure he possessed the best communication technology that he could embed in his body. But all those things were useless if a man, wanted in several galaxies, with a bounty on his head, couldn’t get out of sticky situations. Such as now.

In front of him was impassable, a dense layer of guards blocking his way to freedom. Behind him was not an option. That left only one way to go. Up. And he wore just the boots to do it.

With a click of his heels, he activated certain properties that allowed his boots to cling to the rocky surface of the tunnel. While his feet stuck to the rock and let him climb, gravity did its best to pull, especially his extra burden. But Emma wasn’t about to let go. She clung tight, lest she fall atop the milling bodies below.

Many of them peered upward and gaped stupidly, the space station grunts hired for their size and not their mental acuity. His move confused those sent to capture him, and the guards muttered among themselves. If they fired their projectile weapons, they risked destabilizing the very stone arch they wished to protect, and their swords couldn’t reach.

Rafe didn’t suffer the same angst. He really couldn’t give a damn what happened to the rock. With his gun set to stun, he eliminated a few threats in order to muddle matters further.

Against his ear, soft breath tickled as Emma asked, “How are you doing this? Are you like part spider or something?”

“No. I stuck to more compatible mods. This, dear wench, is all thanks to the boots.” He fired at a fellow who aimed his weapon their way. Cheeky bastard.

Apparently, she didn’t grasp the severity of their situation, as she felt a need to talk. “Boots? But we’re not on your ship, so how are they working?”

“These rocky walls have enough metal in them that once I activate the magnetic properties of my boots, I get enough force to stick.” But that didn’t mean they were out of the meteor field. Reaching the end of the tunnel alive and intact was well and good, but there were still soldiers there waiting for them. Once he got them back on the ground, what would happen then?

Divine intervention if he was lucky.

Instead, he got family.

A familiar voice shouted, “Over here, cousin. Let me give you a hand.”

Past the ring of guard, with a sword in hand, stood Luca. No point in wondering how he got ahead of him. The man had obviously lied in the restaurant. Luca waved his blade and smiled, probably because the guards ignored him. They were after a bigger prize.

Rafe knew better than to trust the man, and yet he needed him. In times of need, a pirate made use of everything he had, even his enemies.

“As soon as you hit the ground,” he muttered to Emma, “run to the ship’s docking arm as fast as you can. See if you can get inside. The Annabelle should already be prepping her engines.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. This is the kind of fracas pirates live for.” The stuff that made them into legends. “Get ready. I’m going to toss you down.”

“You’re going to whaaaaaaaaa…” As she questioned, he manhandled her off his back that he might have a better grip on her.

Given time was short, he wasted no time and launched Emma toward his cousin. It was quite entertaining to watch her arms and legs flailing in the air. Even more entertaining to see Luca stagger as Emma hit him. His wench wasn’t a petite lightweight thing.

Lots of curves to please a man.

As for Rafe, he performed a mighty leap over the heads of the guards, flipping in the air and almost landing clear. The two that softened his landing might have a headache once they woke up.

Rafe didn’t pause as his feet hit the ground. While his gun was low on charge, he nevertheless aimed it behind him as he ran, firing at those who thought to pursue. A general ruckus arose in the docking station, as those milling around took offense at the action.

Some of the visitors yelled at the guards for impeding their path. Others yelled because it was fun. A few even shouted bets. If he’d had time, Rafe would have wagered on himself.

A quick glance over his shoulder showed him gaining distance from his pursuers. Ahead, he noted Luca, with a hand wrapped around Emma’s wrist, yanking her toward the Annabelle’s docking door. It didn’t surprise Rafe that his cousin knew which direction to go. Any man worth his weight in credits would have researched every ship docked at the station. Especially since a certain cousin of his was scouting for a new ship.

He’s not getting my ship.

And, yes, Rafe could almost guarantee that was Luca’s plan. He knew the man. Knew him all too well. His cousin never did anything out of the kindness of his heart, and he didn’t give a damn about family, especially not someone cast out of the family. The fact that Luca had come to their aid was more than suspicious. The timing was suspect.

But for the moment, Rafe had to work with him, and once things settled down, if Luca tried to double-cross him, then he’d get to walk the plank, in space.

The way to his ship cleared as those in the halls wisely moved out of his way. No one wanted to seem to be abetting a wanted man—and no one wanted to get caught in a possible cross fire. Although, this close to the outer rim, only idiots would use anything deadlier than a knife for fear of ruining the integrity of the station.

What Rafe did find intriguing was the fact that the squad of soldiers still chased after him. Usually, once someone they’d deemed a troublemaker showed signs of leaving, they eased off. Arresting patrons, even misbehaving ones, was bad for business. The soldiers didn’t seem to care and appeared determined to run him down.

Then again, when was the last time a bounty this large had been offered?

The amount posted to capture him alive staggered. It was the news he’d left a warm bed to receive, his informant opting to relay the information in person.

“You’re a wanted man.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Rafe replied, hidden in the shadows.

“But this time the reward is the greatest seen since the hunt for the missing heir.”

Good to know someone placed a great deal of value on his head. A man liked to think he had worth.

A short while after this conversation, he’d run into his cousin Luca. Coincidence? Rafe didn’t believe in those.

His cousin would totally turn on him for credits. But in Luca’s defense, Rafe probably would have done the same. It was a ridiculous sum of money.

What confused him was Paschatta. She showed an interest in Rafe, but even more so in Emma. Why? Paschatta wasn’t the type to go out of her way to acquire a new slave. Slaves were plentiful in the galaxies, and there were more than enough families willing to sell daughters, sometimes even sons, if the price was right.

Emma was attractive. Exotic, yes. But this kind of attack in neutral territory seemed out of character.

The door to his ship was only paces away, but it seemed too far, especially since more soldiers appeared ahead of him, charging toward him from the other direction. Amidst the cacophony of pounding feet, one voice stood out, speaking in an alien language, and yet he understood it. What wasn’t there to understand when someone shouted, “Get him. And, remember, we need him alive!”

Bring it. He’d teach the space lugs why they should never mess with a pirate. I’ll sign my victory in their blood. A fine plan, except there wasn’t just him to think about. What of Emma? While he amused himself fighting, what would become of her?

He shouldn’t care. Emma’s wellbeing and survival weren’t his problem. Only one skin required his worry, and that was his own. However, if he could keep them both alive, then great. He’d yet to finish debauching her.

No dying until after I get between those thighs. He’d earned his spot, and he wouldn’t let these misguided soldiers take it from him.

Luca waited for him by the docking tube door, stuck. The lock was programmed to open for only one person and one person alone—Rafe. Arriving at the portal, he slapped his hand on the scanner. The light flashed as the system read his palm print. The door did not budge.

What the fuck? He slapped his hand on the console again. A computerized voice said, “Access denied.”

Am I in the right place? He read the designation above the door. It was his docking berth, but the scanner refused him entry. The fuckers had locked him out of his own ship.

The nerve.

Rafe slapped his wrist, keeping his gaze on the set of ground troops charging at them from both directions. “Annabelle, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Captain.” Her voice played via the embedded earpiece. Welcome to the cellphone of the future.

“The access door for the ship won’t open. I need you to hack into their system and perform an override.”

“I cannot open it, Captain. Not long after your command to fire the engines, the station’s mainframe severed my access. I cannot override any of their commands.” The sulky tone expressed her irritation at being bested.

What he found of more concern was she’d already tried. Considering no docked vessels were allowed to link to the station’s computers, he had to wonder that Annabelle, on her own, had decided to attempt it. Artificial intelligence or not, her autonomous actions were becoming more frequent and troublesome. But this was not a problem he could deal with now.

“Just shoot the fucking door,” yelled his cousin.

Shooting the door, however, would leave it open for pursuit, and of even more concern, it might break a seal and cause a leak. Given his other options—none, none, and none—he didn’t have much of a choice. He thumbed his laser to the highest setting and aimed it at the door.

A siren went off as he dared break the most important of rules—no use of firearms in the outer ring. Too bad. What were they going to do? Arrest him?

A hot beam shot out and hit the metal, quickly turning it red, but the door didn’t open. The metal proved too thick.

And then his gun fizzled as the last of its power ran out.

Fuck.

He tossed the useless weapon at the approaching guards and drew his long knife. Giving up wasn’t an option. He did, after all, still have his balls and pride.

“You can’t possibly fight them all,” sputtered Emma.

Did she cast aspersions on his skills? “I can too fight them. It’s the winning that’s in question.”

Luca jumped to his aid. “There is no doubt it will be a glorious battle. We shall not go down without the most fearsome of fights,” espoused Luca, a wicked dagger held in a reverse grip, point out. “We shall prove so wondrous they might even compose a ballad about us.”

“Ballads are for dead idiots.” Rafe bent his knees. “I don’t intend to die today.” Didn’t intend to, but things weren’t looking good.

If there are any gods listening, I could use a helping hand.

Only paces away from Rafe, the guards had lips peeled back over fangs, eyes bright with avarice.

He loosened his stance, ready for battle, when someone shouted, “Halt!”

At the command, a single word that reverberated all around, overpowering all noise, the guards stopped their mad approach. As if frozen, they stood as statues with blades extended and formed an impenetrable ring around them.

Luca placed his back against Rafe’s and muttered, “I’ll take the horde to the left. You take the horde to the right, and the girl can handle the leftovers.”

“The girl doesn’t have a weapon because someone wouldn’t give her one.” Despite the fear trembling her words, Emma remained sassy. He began to wonder if that was her mechanism for dealing with adversity. He just wished she wouldn’t sass him in front of other people. It made him look weak.

“Can we talk about the whole weapon thing another time?”

“When? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re probably going to die in like the next two minutes.”

“Have faith.” Rafe did because he didn’t think the gods that looked over him were quite done with him yet.

The ranks of soldiers shifted, and a space appeared, through which a body stalked. Rafe didn’t know him, but he could guess by the deference shown.

The male moved with leonine grace, the gold in his eyes always shifting from bright and translucent to dark copper with a hint of burnished wild. His mane flowed dark and lush from his crown with a single braid on each side to keep it from spilling into his face. This particular specimen chose to cover his furry body, opting for a leather ensemble that Rafe would wager came from the skins of his enemies. The tips of his claws gleamed, dipped and tipped in metal for devastating effect when used for ripping at flesh. A Felyon, a species not often seen in space, as they usually preferred to live planetside, and here one had chosen to not only live on a station, but also take over management of it.

“You must be the owner.” Rafe smiled. “I must say your hospitality leaves much to be desired.”

The male stopped before him and towered by a few inches. “I am Freydrik the Mighty, king and ruler of this place.”

“Ra’fhai Aba’ddon.” He sketched a mocking bow. “Mind if I call you Freddy?”

“I do.” Glare. “So you are the one who has everyone in such a turmoil.” The leonine king tilted his head, and the golden stare took Rafe in, from the top of his head down to his toes. “Nice boots.”

Rafe extended his leg, heel down, toe pointed. “Custom made,” he boasted. “I can give you the name of my guy if you’d like. Or, if you’d prefer, give me your boot size and I’ll bring you a pair next time I come back this way.” Achieving that level of cool took practice, for most people. Rafe came by it naturally.

Lips quirked as Freddy fought his irresistible charm. “I would like, but you are making assumptions on your future. Currently I have the upper paw.” Said furry appendage swept outwards to show the thick crowd of soldiers.

He arched a brow. “And? You obviously don’t want me dead or you’d have had them shoot me by now.”

“Firearms are such a cowardly way of handling things.” A low growl punctuated Freddy’s words. “There is no finesse. No true skill. Just point and shoot. Any idiot can do it.”

As rebukes went, it almost made Rafe wince. Except, while his furriness might have an issue with guns, Rafe had no intention of giving them up, not when they could tilt an unfair balance. “No guns, eh? Is this your way of saying you want to arm wrestle for my freedom?”

“That is an option. Or I could just have my men overpower you, deliver you to the bounty hunter’s guild, and collect the prize. It is quite sizable.”

The threat hung between them. “Do that and you’ll kill any and all traffic through this place. We both know your clients are of the less-than-savory sort. If you start turning them in, you’ll end up just as dead as the last owner.”

“A good argument, but not the reason why I am going to let you go.”

He was what? Stunned, Rafe almost missed his next words.

“I know who you are. I know what you could be.”

“I am no one.” The words came by rote, even if, within, others struggled to break free.

“For the moment, perhaps, but should that one day change, then I think having you owe me a favor is worth more than a few more credits to my account.”

“A few? He’s worth—” The protesting soldier quieted quick as his leader whirled and snarled in his direction.

“You won’t need credits to spend if I have you for dinner.” Flipping around again, the mad ruler was replaced with a smug one. “Where were we?”

“You were letting me go.”

“Ah yes. With promise of a favor. Seal the deal.” The paw extended, leathery pads raised.

“What if I’m not who you think I am? What if I’m only ever a pirate?” It was all he could be. Anything more would require more effort, blood, and sweat than he was willing to give.

“Once upon a time, a certain Felyon landed here, a caged beast bought on a whim and kept as a plaything. Sometimes all it takes is the right circumstance to elevate one’s lot in life. Just look at me. From pauper to king of this station.” His lips pulled into a fierce smile with many sharp teeth. “I found and took my kingdom. Perhaps one day you will do the same, Rhomanii. It is a wager I’m willing to take. Do we have a deal?”

If the feline king wished to exchange a worthless favor for his life, then Rafe would oblige. He stuck out his hand and slapped it against the furry one, feeling the leathery texture of the paw and wondering if this Felyon hunted like his ancestors on all four.

“Open the portal to his ship.” With a click and a hiss, the long tube to his vessel beckoned. “Until we meet again.” The king, with an arrogance Rafe admired, presented his back as he turned to walk away.

I can’t believe he’s letting me go.

He should have known his human would ruin it. “That’s it? He gets his guys to chase us with swords, determined to julienne our asses, and he’s now just going to let us leave? Did he sniff some catnip?”

Rafe groaned. “Would you be quiet?”

“I was quiet during that whole speech with beast man here. I even held my tongue when dude pulled the whole ooh my psychic says you’re going to be great, let’s be friends thing. But you expect me to believe after sending his whole army after us, he’s gonna let us go? I don’t buy it.”

Golden eyes peered past Rafe at Emma. “You are not Rhomanii.”

“Uh, yes I am. I’m his cousin.” She stabbed at Rafe as she slid behind him.

“You are the one Paschatta wants so desperately for her menagerie. You are interesting.” The king stalked to the side, and Emma sidled the other way.

“Not really. I’m a pain in the ass. Just ask Rafe. He keeps threatening to toss me out of the airlock.”

“Perhaps I should offer to take you off his hands. I have ways of taming those with wild manners.”

“Can’t. Already taken.” She looped her arm in his, and Rafe almost choked on a chuckle as her wayward tongue got her in trouble.

Freddy smiled, displaying lots of teeth. “I thought you were cousins.”

“We are. That is we’re kissing cousins.” She reached over and pecked Rafe on the cheek. “Keep it in the family. You know because that…” Her babble fizzled. “Okay, I got nothing.”

Rafe shoved her toward the opened passage. “Ignore her, Freddy. She has no idea what she’s saying, and I wouldn’t want to ruin our new budding friendship by saddling you with a half-wit. Bad enough I’ve got to take of her, but you know. Family. Someone has to do it.”

The king’s lips twitched. “Perhaps you should leave before she starts a war.”

“Or perhaps he should admit she’s not Rhomanii at all, but human, a forbidden human from Earth,” snapped Paschatta, who appeared agitated, at least according to her inflated body parts. Some of her wrinkles had smoothed as annoyance filled her.

The king whirled to face her. “It matters not what her origin is. According to the laws of space, she belongs to him. And she is leaving with him.”

“Are you sure of that?” A wicked smile pulled the crone’s rotund face, and her body swelled larger as excitement bubbled inside. “Get them!” Paschatta yelled. “A reward to whoever brings me the girl alive.”

At that promise, the soldiers that were frozen in place shook themselves, glanced around, and then narrowed their gaze on Rafe and his gang.

“Are you daring to order my troops around?” Freddy’s booming words vibrated.

Apparently, Paschatta did, but not all of them were on board. Soldier turned on comrade, and the king, with a mighty roar, threw himself in Paschatta’s direction. With a gleeful cackle, she inflated some more, but Rafe didn’t wait to see if someone would pop her and send her spinning around the docking area.

Time to make their escape.