There’s a knock on the door and I beat Mallory to it, because I don’t know who’s on the other side. And because I’m not used to having a door to answer.

Sebastian stands in the hallway, holding two thin sleep mats. They look just like the ones we slept on in the arena, laid over a rectangle of concrete built into each of the cells. I hold my arms out for the mats, but he doesn’t offer them. “I’m sorry about your wife.” For once, the clown isn’t grinning. “My little sister was murdered last year. She was pregnant. I wasn’t there to put the bastard down, so Sylvie did it.” He clears his throat. “I know your wife’s death was neither the beginning nor the end of what you went through.” He glances at my head, where my scar is hidden by hair I keep long on top. “I know they didn’t give Norah an easy death, and I know what I’d do if something like that ever happened to Kaya or Sylvie. So I guess what I’m saying is that when you go after this Varian, I’ll have your back, if you need it. If you want it.”

I blink at him, glad for the first time in years that I can’t speak, because I would have no idea what to say. No one’s had my back since the day I fled the Roys cartel. So I give him a gruff nod of thanks. Of acceptance. Then I take the mats from him and slide the door shut.

“Did Sebastian just offer to help you kill Varian?” Mallory asks, one hand propped on the hip of her yoga pants. The blue ones. They’re my favorite of the three pairs she escaped the wreckage with.

I nod as I unfold the first mat on the floor.

“Are you going to let him?”

I shrug and spread the second mat out on top of the first one. It’s not exactly a mattress, but infinitely better than sleeping on the concrete floor.

“You should let him,” she says. “Varian won’t be alone. Surely you know that as well as I do.”

Another nod. If there are cronies to be found in zone three and a way to pay them, Varian will have as many men at his side as he can. Especially if he already knows I’m here.

I clear my throat to recapture her attention, then I point at the hall, in the direction of the bathroom we washed up in earlier. “You’re going hunting for a snack? I know you didn’t eat much,” she scolds, and I shake my head. “Well then, you must have to pee.”

I nod again and hold up one finger to tell her I’ll be right back, as I slip out the door into the hall.

Both of the functioning bathrooms are occupied—no surprise in a building full of women—so I head out the front door into nature’s restroom facilities, grateful yet again that I’m a man. This world sucks for women.

Most worlds suck for women.

I relieve myself behind the building, enjoying the chilly breeze, after such a sweltering day, and I’ve just tucked myself back into my pants when I hear footsteps at my back. On alert, I spin around, ready to fight, and I see Warren headed my way in the generous pools of moonlight shining on this side of the building.

“Hey. Mallory said you went to the bathroom, and this time of night, I assumed that meant you’d be outside.”

I nod in acknowledgement and wait for him to say whatever’s coming next.

“I just spoke to Sebastian and Kaya. I hope you don’t mind. And I hope that doesn’t sound like we were gossiping. It was more about spreading the word on a potential threat to the Sorority, which Varian certainly qualifies as.”

Another nod. I’m so sure he’s about to make me the same offer Sebastian just made that his next words catch me completely off-guard.

“So the thing is…I know where Varian is.”

What?

“Well, I know where he used to be, anyway, and there’s a good chance he’s still there.”

I give him an exaggerated shrug of both shoulders. Where is the bastard?

Warren glances around, as if to make sure no one’s listening. He better not be yanking my chain. “Let’s sit, okay? Away from the building.” He heads for the row of three fire pits set into the ground and sinks onto one of the large logs arranged around the nearest one, as a seat. I sit on the next log. “It’s not that this is a secret, really. It’s just that the Sorority is for the women, obviously, and I’m still kind of on probation here. So the last thing I want is to piss off Ty and Callum, and I’m not sure they’d like me telling you and Sebastian where to go to pick a fight with a psycho.”

It’s not picking a fight. It’s avenging my wife. It’s protecting Mallory, as well as any of the other women Varian might decide he wants, if he ever figures out they’re here.

“Anyway, I’ve been in zone three for several years now. Last year, I was staying in the city. Don’t go there. Seriously. Anyway, while I was there, this new guy came around, and he was making a bit of a name for himself. Which is unusual, considering that he wasn’t a champion. People said he was from some crime family halfway across the galaxy. And he had two other men with him, looking out for him. Like bodyguards. Which didn’t go over too well in the city. There, you fight for yourself, or not at all, if that makes sense.”

I nod.

“So he and his friends left not too soon after they arrived. That guy’s name was Varian. He’s got to be the fucker you’re looking for.”

Yes, the chances of there being two pricks named Varian walking around with bodyguards in zone three don’t seem good. I shrug again and glance around, silently asking for a vector. Just point me at the bastard.

“I’m getting there. Anyway, a few months ago, I saw him again, at a supply drop that landed about an hour from here. He offered me a ‘job.’ He was looking for bodyguards. Said he could pay. Evidently someone in his family has bribed a guard to make special drops for him.”

Fuck. He could have anything. I hold my hand like a gun and mime shooting with my brows arched.

“I doubt he could get weapons in. Nothing more complex than a bat, anyway. The warden would want to make an example of any guard caught arming an inmate, and no guard in his right mind would risk getting sent here, with men he’s kept locked up. But Varian could be buying loyalties with anything you can’t get in a drop shipment. Alcohol. Real candy. Hell, fresh fucking fruit.” Warren shrugs. “I don’t work for entitled pricks, but I would imagine he found a couple of takers.”

I glance pointedly around us, asking again for a location.

“There’s a building a couple of hours from here. The back of it has collapsed, but the front half is still standing, which gives it a very distinctive look. If you’ve seen it, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

I’ve seen it. Rumor has it the back half of the building was crushed by a crashed shuttle, which UA removed, to keep scraps from it out of the hands of inmates. Because the building is made of metal, like most of the structures here, the uninhabitable back half now looks like one of those old-fashioned aluminum soda cans, like people used to crush beneath their palms. It’s just…flattened.

Which means there’s no rear exit.

I point to the east.

“Yes, it’s that way, a couple of hours’ walk from here. There’s nothing else around it, that I remember. I take it you know the place?”

I nod.

Varian is here. He has backup. And his family is still supporting him, from half a galaxy away.

I stare at the moonlit ground between my feet, trying to control my rage.

“I can see what you’re thinking. But you can’t go after him at night. Alone.”

He’s right. Knowing where Varian is—where he might be—won’t help me kill him, if he’s surrounded by bodyguards in a building with only one entrance. I still need to lure him out. And if I use Mallory as bait, he might come alone, or with minimal backup, to keep from advertising the fact that he’s coming after a woman.

I stand and offer Warren my hand as a thank you for the information.

“Glad I could help, man.” He stands, and we head back toward the building. “But maybe we could keep this just between the two of us?”

I nod. Then I head back inside, leaving him to do his business.

“Did Warren find you?” Mallory asks as I step into our room and slide the door closed behind me.

In reply, I pick her up and swing her around, and she squeals as her legs fly out behind her. “Somebody’s happy! Did he have good news?”

I nod as I set her down.

“Are you going to tell me?”

I shake my head, still smiling.

“A surprise? I love surprises. Is it chocolate?” she asks, and I shake my head again. “Better than chocolate?” I nod dramatically. “Is it sex? Because what you do is your business, but I’m not sleeping with Warren, no matter how good he is.”

I chuckle and roll my eyes at her.

“Good. I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you just really wanted to sleep with Warren, but I’d rather you only wanted to sleep with me.”

Giving her my best smoldering look, I pull my shirt off and drop it on the floor.

“Well, that bodes well! Will you pose for me, gladiator?” she asks. I shake my head and unbutton my pants, then I shove them to the floor, with my shorts still inside. “Damn, you’re a good-looking man. I kind of want to lick you like a— Oh! Wait! I have a surprise for you too. Lie down.”

I point at the mat with my brows raised.

“Yes. Lie down. I saved this from my breakfast the other day, and I thought…” Her chatter fades into an unintelligible mutter as she digs through her satchel, while I sit on the double stack of mats, as directed. “So, you know how I have this troublesome sweet tooth…?” Mallory stands up holding a small packet left over from a meal envelope. She squeezes it, and the package…squishes.

Her eyes light up as she prowls toward me. “This is syrup, right? It starts with an S, and it feels like a thick liquid. And since I’m pretty sure they don’t pack shampoo in with a pancake breakfast, I’m guessing this is syrup?” She holds the packet still so I can read from it, and I nod.

My cock stiffens instantly. I think I see where this is headed.

“Is it chocolate syrup, by any chance?”

I shake my head, and she pouts. “I didn’t think so. But plain syrup is good too.”

I take the flashlight from the floor and aim it at the packet, then I tap on the letter “B” in the line beneath the main label, which reads “Natural Blueberry Flavoring.” Mallory squints at it, and carefully sounds out the first few letters. “Bl-uuu-” Her eyes light up. “Blueberry syrup?”

I nod.

“That’s awesome.” Her smile is like a ray of sunshine, and I bask in its glow. “I’m going to save the leftovers, so we can have blueberry sex again, later. Lie down!”

Chuckling, I comply while she rips open the top of the packet. But before she can start drizzling, I tug on the cuff of her skintight blue pants.

“Oh, I guess I should strip first. Because this will probably get sticky.”

This will definitely get sticky. But I don’t care if I wake up with my hair glued to a blueberry-scented sleep mat, as long as I wake up next to her.

“Here. Hold this. And maybe…warm it up between your hands.” While I obey, Mallory takes her clothes off and drops them in a pile on the floor. Then she settles over me, straddling my thighs, and reclaims the packet. “I don’t remember the last time I had blueberry syrup,” she says as she dribbles a thin stream of it into my mouth.

I don’t remember the last time I had any either, but if I ever find another packet, I’ll be sporting a massive erection all the way through breakfast.

Sweet syrup coats my tongue, followed an instant later by the distinctive flavor of blueberries. I am both hungry and horny. The obvious solution is to make another meal out of the delicacy between Mallory’s thighs, but she seems to have other plans.

She dribbles a little more syrup onto the center of my lower lip, then smears it onto the rest of my mouth as if she’s applying lip gloss. Then she leans in for the world’s stickiest, most delicious kiss.

“Mmm…” she moans, sucking the sweetness from my bottom lip. She nibbles on it for a second, then she slides her empty hand beneath my head and plunders my mouth like I want to plunder her entire body. Her tongue slides along mine, teasing. Tasting. Combining my sweet gift with one of her own. “You taste so fucking good,” she murmurs when she finally pulls away, and my cock is straining for her, all on its own. But it’s going to have to wait, because my mouth wants more of her too.

I sit up, one hand at her back to steady her, then I claim the syrup. Her eyes sparkle in the beam from the flashlight, and she tilts her head back, obliging my desire as if she can actually hear the thoughts rattling around in my head.

God, I want to take her. But first, we play.

I dribble a little syrup over her closed lips, then I pour a thin line of it over her chin and down her neck, where I let a little bit pool at the top of each breast. Then I set the packet down, propped on the edge of the bed mats so it doesn’t spill, and I lean back to watch.

She holds perfectly still, her head still thrown back, syrup pooled at the seam of her lips, as if she knows the game I’m playing. And she is the most magnificent game piece I’ve ever held.

Syrup flows slowly down her breasts in twin trails, and I want to lick it up. I want to lick her all over. But I make myself wait, while my cock twitches, cradled against the hot moisture already gathering between her thighs. Her breasts are firm and round, and once the syrup trails crest the upper slopes, they speed up, aided by gravity and the pitch of her gorgeous curves.

She squirms a little, making a hungry noise deep in her throat, when the trails reach her areolas, almost simultaneously. And she’s groaning by the time they crest her sensitive nipples.

Yet still I wait, watching as the first dark bead forms on the very peak of her left breast. The drop hangs there much longer than water would, swelling with every passing second. And as it elongates, just before it would fall, I lean down and catch it on my tongue.

Mallory moans, and my hips twitch beneath her, rubbing my cock against her most sensitive places. But she can’t speak, because she’s still holding that sweet little pool of syrup for me in the seam of her beautiful lips.

I hold her close with one hand at her back while I lick her left nipple clean in slow strokes, as it pebbles beneath my tongue. Then I move to her right breast, where the slower stream of syrup has just begun to gather. This time I suck it from the peak, and her groans become a sound of desperate need.

If I could speak, I would tell her how good she’s being. How patient. How much I love to taste her. But I can only show her. So I suck a little harder and slide my cock against her again, over and over, until she’s rocking against me, her head still tilted dutifully back.

Slowly, I work my way up her right breast, licking it clean, then I follow the trail up her neck and onto her chin. She’s breathing heavily now, still grinding against my cock, and her sticky breasts are flattened against my chest.

I thrust a little harder beneath her as I round the point of her chin and kiss my way over its little dip. Then I take her hips and grind her into me as I lick the seam of her lips.

“Oh!” she gasps as her first orgasm rolls over her, and I capture the rest of her sounds with a kiss, as I rub myself against her swollen clit over and over. “Oh my god!” she cries as she breaks free of the kiss and pushes me onto my back so she can grind even harder against my poor neglected cock. “Barrett!”

Laughing, I press one finger against her sticky lips. And when she finally stills, I pull her down for another kiss.

“You taste so good,” Mallory murmurs. “And that has nothing to do with the blueberry syrup. But now it’s your turn.” She picks up the packet and slides down my thighs, and with a wicked gleam in her eyes, she pours a thin stream from my left nipple to my right. Then she trails a path down my chest and over my stomach, until I feel the strange, tantalizing sensation of syrup tracing the length of my cock.

I can’t stand it. I’m so desperate I’m going to come the second she takes me in her mouth. But she’s going to make me wait for that.

Mallory laps up syrup from my nipples, and I nearly lose my mind. I had no idea how good that would feel. Her hands glide down my sides as she licks her way down my chest, her breasts brushing my stomach, then my hips, until finally they envelop my erection.

I groan, and she presses them together, letting me slide in and out of her cleavage, slick with a lubrication of fucking blueberry flavored syrup. I’m pretty sure that Pavlovian response will make me want to fuck the next stack of pancakes I see.

Finally, when my cock is so hard it almost hurts, she continues down my legs until she can cup my scrotum in her hand. The first short, hot stroke of her tongue near the base of my cock is nearly my undoing. My hips jerk, and I have to fight to keep from ending this whole party right now.

Mallory laughs. She licks a long line up the underside of my cock to the tip, where she licks both syrup and pre-cum from the head. Then she takes it into her mouth and sucks it like a fucking lollipop.

My groan sounds like puritans being tortured in someone’s sex dungeon, and I love every second of the torment.

She sucks longer and harder, intermittently licking the syrup from my shaft before taking me in her mouth again, a little deeper each time. When I hit the back, she relaxes those muscles and fucking swallows me. Gripping me with her throat like a hot, wet fist.

I groan and fight to stay still, letting her set the pace so I don’t hurt her, but I can’t take much more of—

Fuck. Her lips close around the base of my cock and I grab double handfuls of the mat beneath me. I think I knocked over the syrup, and I do not give a shit.

Mallory slides slowly off my cock, all the way to the tip, and I groan. But when she starts to take me back in, I grab for her arm to stop her. She looks up at me, eyes wide, brows arched. “Something wrong?”

I shake my head. Then I sit up and push her back on the mat, careful not to let her head wound bump it. I slide her folded blanket beneath her skull, then I grab her hips, spread her thighs wide, and sink into her as deep as I can go.

Mallory smiles. Her eyes are closed, her lips shiny and swollen. She looks…happy. But I can make her even happier.

I slide one hand between us and circle her clit as I thrust into her, pleased to find her still swollen from her first orgasm. Her second one builds quickly, thank god, because I can’t hold back for very long. In seconds, she’s clenching around me, gasping in my ear. “Barrett,” she whispers. “Please…”

I come so hard the fucking flashlight seems to flicker. Mallory’s body grips me tightly, spasming around me, drawing out every second of my pleasure as she rides out her own.

Still twitching inside, her, I kiss her neck and find several hairs stuck to it in a bit of blueberry syrup I must have missed. I laugh, and she groans when that makes my cock move inside her. “That was amazing.”

I suck her earlobe into my mouth and nibble it. “Mmm hmm,” I murmur. That’s the most speech I can manage, but she seems thrilled with it.

A few minutes later, I watch her as she pulls her shirt over her head and I step into my pants, heedless of the sticky mess we’re still covered in; we can wash up in the morning. “Was Norah your heart?” she asks, when she catches me looking.

I nod as I tug her down onto the mat with me and pull the blanket over us.

“And now I am?” she asks.

“Mmm hmm.” I repeat into her ear.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to be stuck with me, just because I followed you home that day.”

I growl into her hair, telling her to stop talking nonsense. I grope on the floor until I grasp the letter I wrote, then I drop it in front of her.

Paper crinkles, and she’s still clutching that note when we both fall asleep.

“Barrett please!” Mallory pleads in a desperate whisper, and I blink at her. “Please wake up. We can’t let anyone else hear you!”

The fuck?

I’m standing, one fist raised, while she cowers in front of me in the corner of the room. Moonlight shines on tears in her eyes, and there’s a red blotch on her outer left thigh, already darkening into a bruise.

No. No! Not again. This can’t be happening again.

The dull pain in my right foot says I kicked her. I fucking kicked the woman who keeps my miserable heart beating.

I take a step back and drop my fist. My hand aches when I try to unclench it, as if it’s been curled up too long.

I sink onto the ground and bury my head in my hands, clutching fistfuls of my own hair. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair to her. She shouldn’t be afraid of the man who’s supposed to protect her.

“Barrett?” Her knees scrape against the concrete as she crawls toward me, and I flinch when her small hand lands on my bare arm. I don’t deserve her kindness. Her forgiveness.

I don’t deserve Mallory.

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head. Then I look up and tug her into my lap, cradling her with my whole body. Trying to tell her that I would put myself between her and a fucking bullet, and it kills me that the only thing I can’t protect her from is myself.

She seems to understand. But she shouldn’t have to.

With her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist, I stand, one hand at her back to steady her. I cross the room and set her on the stacked bed mats, then I draw the blanket up to her waist. I tilt my head and fold my hands beneath my cheeks, telling her to go to sleep.

“What about you?” she whispers. I point at the hallway, then I grab my shirt and pull it on. “You’re going to sleep somewhere else?”

I nod. Then I bend down and kiss the top of her head.

“But you’ll be back in the morning?” The way she says that makes me wonder if she might suspect what I actually have in mind.

I nod as I grab my bag and step into the hall. But instead of finding another mat or curling up on one of the cushions in the lobby, I head out the front door and past the next building. There’s only one way to stop these nightmares. To keep Mallory safe. And I am done wasting time.

The sky has begun to lighten almost imperceptibly by the time I step out of the woods and start down the hill. I’ve been walking for nearly two hours, by my best guess, but it’s cold on Rhodon in the dark, so I haven’t broken a sweat.

The half-crushed building is dark. No one’s up yet, which is exactly what I was hoping for. Since I don’t know who all stands at Varian’s back, this morning is about poking the hornet’s nest, to see what the swarm consists of.

That, and dangling the bait.

I approach cautiously, watching the windows for any sign of light or movement, and when I see none, I make my way down the cracked walkway toward the front door, which stands slightly ajar. I’m guessing that whatever crushed the back half of the building also messed with the alignment of the entire structure. Which probably means that none of the windows or doors work properly.

Under an all-out assault, this place could be a death trap. For either Varian or me. Which is why I can’t afford to fight him here. I have to draw him out. Bring him to my turf.

Several feet from the door, I set the holo-disk on what’s left of the paved path and press my thumb to it to turn it on. Mallory’s nude form appears, and I grit my teeth. I don’t want Varian and his men to see her naked and vulnerable, like this. But that’s infinitely preferable to them seeing her in person.

From my pocket, I pull a small strip of paper torn from the bottom of the note I wrote for Mallory. On it are directions to the shelter. I need to draw Varian there while Mallory is safe at the Sorority. So I can put him out of his misery without putting her in danger.

As the off-camera voice asks Mallory to turn and show herself off, I stand and glance around at the chipped pieces of concrete. Finally I find one that will fit in my fist. I steel myself, preparing to leave Mallory—her image, at least—with a man who spent years abusing her. I grip the chunk of concrete so hard that it bites into the rough skin of my palm. Then I throw it as hard as I can at the window nearest the warped front door.

The projectile hits the shatterproof pane with a thud, and a chip appears in the surface. I wait the span of a single heartbeat. Then I take off running for the woods.

Two seconds after I reach my hiding place, squinting between the trees at the half-crushed building, the front door swings open haltingly with the squeal of abused metal hinges. A man appears in the doorway, yawning. I can’t see him very well from my hiding place, but I can tell he’s not Varian.

He seems to be blinking sleep from his eyes. Then his entire body goes stiff as he notices the holo-disk. He glances around in confusion, obviously looking for the source, and I’m dying to confront him. My muscles ache to be put to use. My fist craves the cracking of bone and the shedding of blood.

But it’s not time yet.

“Varian!” the man shouts, without looking away from Mallory’s image. I can’t tell whether or not he recognizes her. I can’t tell whether or not he’s one of the two bodyguards I failed to avenge Norah by killing. “Varian!” the man shouts again, when he gets no response.

Seconds later, another man emerges from the building, wearing only a pair of cutoff prison-issued pants. Then another, wearing a tee and full-length pants. Finally, Varian emerges. His pale brown hair has grown out, and it looks unkempt, but I’d recognize him anywhere, from his swagger alone. Even still obviously half-asleep. Even if he weren’t wearing what appears to be his favorite style of denim pants and a fucking blue hoodie, which could only have come from a private, family-funded supply drop.

Scowling, he opens his mouth to snap at the man who woke him up, but then his jaw goes slack when he sees Mallory. He heads for her, barefoot, and at first, he can only stare. “Who did this?” he demands, and in the pre-dawn stillness, I can hear him perfectly well. “Who the fuck…?”

“No idea, boss,” the first man on the scene says, while two more men come out of the building. “Something hit the window, and this was out here when I opened the door. I think there’s something under the disk.”

Varian kneels and tilts the disk up, which tilts Mallory’s entire form, as if she lives on another plane of gravity from the one governing us. He picks up the slip of paper, then drops the disk back into place, and Mallory continues turning around, to show off her nude figure to faceless customers.

“Holy shit, that’s Mallory,” one of the latecomers says, and I recognize Leon’s voice. His was one of the last voices Norah ever heard.

“It’s directions.” Varian looks up from the note. “Someone’s saying we can find Mallory at a storm shelter standing alone in the middle of a field.”

“Barrett,” Leon says. “Has to be. Think this is a trap?”

“Of course it’s a fucking trap,” Varian spits. But he’s going to walk right into that trap willingly, because I’ve just offered him something that neither his men nor his family can give him.

Vengeance.

And I know better than anyone that that particular siren’s song can’t be resisted.