He pushed one foot against the wall and felt the snap as the boot stuck to the metal. He walked up the wall and then went to work on the blinking control lock beside the hatch. A second later, the hatch opened without a sound.
Bingo. Zayn climbed through. He was in a bedroom. It was draped in metallic gold fabric—the walls, the ceiling, the posts at the corners of a bed large enough for an entire VelocityBall team.
And in the center of the bed was a woman with very dangerous curves. Very naked curves.
She sensed his presence because she slid sensuously against the silken sheets and looked over her slim shoulder. She pushed a tangled cloud of multi-colored hair back. Her gaze skimmed his tight flight suit, then she shot him a smile designed to turn a man’s cock hard as space rock.
Zayn loved women. Always had. But this lush woman left him uncomfortably cold. Instead, the image of a toned, athletic bodyand a cap of blonde hair wavered in his vision for the briefest second.
Mission, Zayn. He shot the woman a smile and pressed a finger to his lips. She nodded and gave him her best come-hither look. He mouthedlaterand crept out of the room.
Eos’ research had indicated that Braxx’s harem girls weren’t particularly loyal to the man. He provided them with luxury, but he was cruel and demanding.
Just another good reason to give the man a huge fuck you. Anyone who hurt women was lower than low.
That include you, Phoenix?
The uncomfortable thought was a kick to his belly. He gritted his teeth and kept moving.
A few rooms later—all thankfully empty as planned—he found Braxx’s little throne room. At one end of the space was a large, elaborate chair of twisted metal set on a small dais. Behind it, a huge window offered a fantastic view of space and the distant asteroid field that provided the station with protection. One of those asteroids was also hiding his ship, theInfinitas, and his brothers.
Zayn’s gaze moved back to the butt-ugly chair. Why did these bastards always have thrones? What was wrong with a good office? Or just a comfy couch? Then his gaze zeroed in on the slim stand spotlighted in the center of the room. He walked toward it.
Incredible. In the center of the pedestal sat the Crown of the Consorts, nestled on a bed of blue velvet. It was made from platinum and set with a sprinkle of diamonds. Four arms arched up to some sort of cross at the top. But what stole the show was the huge diamond sitting right in the center at the front. Eos had told him it was called the Koh-i-noor and was just over a hundred carats. The crown was a symbol of power and wealth, but also a piece of history.
He always thought it was wrong to lock treasure away, even in a reputable museum. Life was supposed to be lived, experienced. This crown should be gracing a beautiful woman, not cold and lonely, locked away on a space station. And definitely not Vand Braxx’s space station.
He opened the secure bag he’d brought to carry the invaluable piece. He reached out to grab it and his fingers passed right through it.
What the fuck?He tried again. A fucking hologram!
He touched his ear. “Guys, we have a problem. The crown is a hologram.”
Dathan’s curses echoed through the line.
“Braxx could have the real thing in a safe.” Niklas was always the voice of reason on a Phoenix treasure hunt.
Zayn glanced across the room. Wild Delican art graced the walls, and other artifacts and treasures were dotted around. “I don’t think so. The room is jam-packed with expensive stuff.” He thought of the curvaceous woman lounging in her exotic room. “The guy likes his toys on display for everyone to see.”
Looking back at the pedestal, he searched for the hologram projector. He found the tiny dot, far smaller than any he’d seen before, on the side of the stand. He pressed it and the hologram of the crown disappeared.
What was left nestled on the velvet was a small metal bird of prey with wicked-looking talons.
Anger stormed through him. “Dammit. Our pain-in-the-ass rival’s been here.”
“What?” Dathan demanded.
“There’s another one of those birds of prey. He was here. Stole our prize right out from under us. Again.” Zayn had no idea who their mysterious rival was, but this was the third hunt where the treasure hunter had bested them. “What the hell does he want?”
“Better yet, who the hell is he?” Nik asked.
“Get your ass back to the ship, Zayn.” Dathan’s voice was tight with barely leashed anger. “We can’t ignore this little upstart any longer.”
Zayn fingered the silver bird before he slipped it into his pocket. It reminded him of the hawk logo he’d once worn on his Strike Wing uniform. He pressed the button to turn the hologram back on.
Nothing happened.
He pressed the button again.
