“Not those deep-space reprobates.” Zayn had only met his other cousins two or three times. After his father was estranged from his brother, the cousins had drifted apart. The other three Phoenixes were deep-space explorers running convoys beyond charted space. Crazy, in Zayn’s opinion.
“Yep, the ‘other’ Phoenix brothers. They’re running a convoy out of the Sahara Quadrant.”
Zayn grunted and tried to focus on the job, butshepopped into his head. He promptly scraped his hand against a ragged piece of metal. “Flaming son of a bitch!”
“You want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Mal swung a hammer at a large exhaust pipe. The clang of metal-on-metal rang out.
He hunched his shoulders and rubbed the last of the blood off his finger. “No.” He kept thinking of the woman. Mystery Woman.
“Sometimes it helps to clear the air.”
He cast a sideways glance at Mal. “How would you know? You are the most cheerful person I know. Do you even have problems?”
Amethyst eyes stared up at him. “We all have problems, Zayn. Challenges, things that get in the way of what we want.” Something flashed in her eyes before she turned back to her beloved scrap metal. “Or who we want. Just remember I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
He knew better than most that some obstacles surrounding who you wanted could never be resolved. He stared at his cousin’s bent head. “Same goes, Mal.”
She glanced up and smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“Zayn?” Eos’ shout echoed through the hangar.
“Yeah,” he called back.
“Meeting in Mission Control. I have more information on the derringer.”
“Be right there. Catch you later, Mal.”
“Later.”
He headed toward the stairs that led up to Mission Control, dodging the piles of junk. Some of it was Mal’s spare parts, and some were bits and pieces pilfered from hunts. He passed the rusted chassis of a genuine Earth automobile. He ran a hand over the metal symbol on the front of it, a circle with threespokes. It almost looked like a wheel. Even damaged, he could tell from the sleek lines that she’d been built for speed.
Eos kept threatening to start The Phoenix Museum. Dathan protested about it every chance he got. Vocally. Loudly. Said it’d ruin his reputation and he didn’t want people traipsing all over their moon.
Zayn had money on Eos talking him around eventually. The woman was mad for sharing artifacts with everyone in the galaxy.
He ran up the steps, hoping to burn off some of the edgy energy winging through him. Once again, he thought ofherand that tantalizing hint of her across the bar. That glimpse of creamy skin and blonde hair. He shook his head. It was driving him mad and dredging up things best left unremembered.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, his fingertips touched metal. He pulled out the silver bird and turned it over in his hand. “I’m going to find you.” He slipped the bird back into his pocket and entered the large room where they planned all their treasure hunts.
Eos and his brothers stood crowded around the holo-table. Images were displayed on its flat screen surface. In Mission Control there was no disorder, no junk. Artifacts were lined up on the shelves on the wall, all neatly tagged and bagged. Treasure hunting was about adventure, but it was also their business.
“What have you got?” he asked.
“Okay, I found an image of the Lincoln Derringer.” Nik tapped the screen. “It’s grainy because the file was damaged, but I recovered what I could.”
The image appeared and Dathan whistled. “Now that is a tiny little beauty of a gun.”
The derringer was a gentle curve of wood inlaid with metal. It was small, Zayn mused, maybe fifteen centimeters. But sizedidn’t really matter. It was still dangerous and had taken a life. “Is that silver?”
Eos shook her head. “We aren’t sure what it is, but I think silver would have been too expensive at that time except for the wealthiest clients. My guess is some sort of metal alloy.”
“Now, look at that,” a feminine voice drawled. “That is one very old and very cute-looking weapon. I’d carry something like that over a boring old laser pistol any day.”
Zayn shook his head and saw Dathan roll his eyes. Zayn cleared his throat. “BEll, you’re a computer. You can’t carry anything, let alone a gun.”
“A girl can still dream.”
Dathan mumbled under his breath. “Sometimes I regret stealing her. A bio-sentient computer is a pain in the butt.”
