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  Indeed, he wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to pay the fee that Slk demanded. But somehow he had to if he and Lauren were ever going to be free of the AllFather’s influence and get beyond his reach. And at least he’d gained permission to access their secure parking area. To bring a ship to the splicing district without secure accommodations was asking to have it stripped in a matter of minutes.

  He’d been making his way back through the narrow warren of arching plasti-glass tunnels built high above the skyline of O’ah when a pack of splicers had jumped him.

  He hadn’t been expecting the attack because it didn’t make sense. Everyone knew that Scourge DNA was flawed—their stubborn intractability and volatility made them useless as slaves except to other Scourge and their pearlescent grey skin and red-on-black eyes weren’t considered beautiful enough to replicate for cloning. So why would splicers attack him? Putting the question aside, Xairn had fought them off one by one, despite the fact that his weapon was out of charge. But the splicers were very determined and it was a long, messy business—mostly knife work which left him covered in gore.

  Five splicers lay dead at his feet, their red-black blood splattering the smudged plasti-glass tunnel before he was done. Only one remained alive and in the state he was in, he wouldn’t last for long.

  Xairn knelt on the male’s narrow chest and stared into the pale purple eyes. “Why did you attack me?” he demanded hoarsely, gripping the neck of the splicer’s cloak and twisting. “Is Scourge DNA suddenly in vogue on this benighted planet? I thought we had too many flaws to be of much use to a splicer.”

  “Don’t…don’t want your DNA,” the male choked, a thin trickle of reddish-black blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. “Scourge DNA is shit.”

  “Why then?” Xairn twisted harder until the male’s face turned as purple as his cloak. “Tell me now and I’ll give you a painless death.”

  “T-too late for that.” The male broke into a cracked laugh that turned into a sob. “Gods…think my spine is broken. Can’t feel anything…below my waist.”

  “Lucky for you,” Xairn said coldly. “You can’t feel pain in the lower half of your body. But if you don’t want the top half of your miserable carcass to be in absolute fucking agony, you’ll tell me what you know, now.”

  “Spider sent us.” The splicer coughed weakly, spewing black droplets from his thin lips. “He wanted us to kill you so he could have your ship.”

  “My ship?” Xairn frowned. “What the hell does he want with a Kindred Outrider? The damn thing is fifty cycles old if it’s a day—surely he could see that.”

  “He doesn’t…doesn’t want the ship itself.” The light in the pale purple eyes was dying and the splicer’s voice was growing faint. “He wants…what’s inside it.” He coughed again. “Treasure…”

  “Treasure? I don’t have any fucking…” Xairn’s voice trailed off and his eyes widened. “Gods, Lauren!”

  He shook the splicer hard. “What was he going to do to her? Where was he taking her?”

  But the light in the splicer’s pale purple eyes had gone out—he was talking to a corpse.

  Dropping the lifeless body, Xairn leapt to his feet and took off down the warren of smudged, plasti-glass tunnels at a dead run. If he didn’t get back to Lauren soon, there would be nothing to get back to. And if he was too late to save her…

  Xairn didn’t let himself think about that. Didn’t allow himself to explore the new emotions exploding inside him. Rage…possession…desperation…

  Please, he prayed, not knowing who he was praying to. Please don’t let me be too late. Oh Lauren…

  Chapter Two

  Sophie was nervous.

  “Of course you’re nervous.” Liv adjusted her veil and smiled at her. “It’s your wedding day—everyone’s nervous on their wedding day.”

  “You weren’t,” Sophie accused, looking at herself in the 3-D viewer. Like Olivia before her, she was wearing their mother’s wedding dress and she had to admit it looked beautiful. “You were so happy you were completely blissed out,” she continued, pointing at her twin. “So happy you didn’t even think twice about making me do the luck kiss with Sylvan.”

  Liv snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re going to complain about that? You wouldn’t be getting married today if it wasn’t for that luck kiss.”

  “She’s right, you know.” Kat bustled into the small tent-like changing area just outside the sacred grove. Once more she was playing the mother of the bride roll and making sure everything went perfectly. Of course, she had a lot less to do than she had for Olivia’s wedding because Sophie and Sylvan had decided to keep their bonding ceremony a small, intimate affair.

  “I know.” Sophie smiled at her sister and her best friend. “And believe me, I’m not complaining. I’m just saying you weren’t as nervous on your wedding day as I am, Liv.”

  “What are you nervous about?” Kat asked, frowning. “Believe me, there’s nothing to worry you. The guests are all seated, Sylvan’s waiting at the altar—or in front of the priestess, I guess. And I have to say he looks pretty amazing in that native Tranq Prime costume—you didn’t tell me they dressed like cavemen. I love the fur skirt and boots look.”

  Sophie laughed. “I have to agree with you there—Sylvan looks really good in his native outfit. But I assure you not all men look as good in that ‘fur skirt’ as you call it.”

  “I don’t know.” Liv smiled. “I saw Baird wearing his own furry kilt just before the ceremony and he looked pretty hot in it too.”

  “That’s because he and Sylvan both have such nice muscular chests,” Kat said. “I’d be jealous if I didn’t have a pair of hot guys of my own to admire.” She smirked. “Though I don’t know why the guys get to wear boots in the sacred grove while the rest of us go barefoot.”

  “I wondered about that too,” Sophie said. “It’s something to do with the boots being made of the fur of a consecrated animal. Apparently the Tranq Prime warriors pray over the vranna before they kill it.”

  “If that’s the huge abominable snowman thing they have to kill to prove they’re a man, I’d think they’d be praying pretty much every minute they were hunting it,” Liv said dryly. “Praying the damn thing doesn’t rip their heads off.”

  “Well, I have a really cute pair of heels that exactly match this dress.” Kat nodded at the beautiful blue-green silk sheath she was wearing. “I’d be happy to say a quick prayer over them if I could put them on.”

  Sophie shook her head. “You know it doesn’t work that way. No shoes allowed in the sacred grove.”

  “I know, I know…” Kat sighed. “But as I was saying before we got onto the subject of religious shoes, everything is good to go and the refreshments for the reception are all laid out. Everything looks fabulous. Well, except for that weird brown mush from Sylvan’s home world. That looks like dog crap on a plate, unfortunately.”

  “That would be the fleeta pudding.” Sophie made a face. “You didn’t try any, did you? You know it’s made of bug guts, right? There are legs in it and everything.”

  “Anything that looks and smells like that stuff, I’m smart enough not to put in my mouth,” Kat said tartly. “Oh, but I think we’d better stop talking about it. Look at Liv.”

  Liv, who was nearing the end of her first quadmester of pregnancy and just beginning to show, had a hand over her mouth and was looking distinctly green. “I think I need some air,” she whispered.

  “Sorry!” Kat opened the flap of the tent and waved Olivia out. “Just be sure you’re back in ten minutes. The ceremony is about to start.”

  “And that’s what’s worrying me,” Sophie said, as soon as her sister left, shutting the tent flap behind her. “Where’s Nadiah? She was supposed to be here hours ago. I promised her a spot in my wedding but I can’t hold the whole thing up indefinitely waiting for her.”

  “I’m sure she’s on her way.” Kat patted her arm comfortingly. “Don’t feel bad, doll. That’s one of the