Grimacing, Bastien shook his head. “Never heard him mention a Durden. Didn’t know he hadanyfriends, to be honest. Not that he ever talked much, but when he did, you’re the only one he ever really talked about.” He paused as he realized what Hauk had just done, then smirked. “So did I pass?”
“Pass what?”
“Your test to see if I’m really a friend of Fain’s. Not that I blame you. Don’t trust strangers as a rule, either. But I do know Fain. I even know you have burn scars on your back from a childhood accident he blames himself for. And that his ex-wife was named Omira Antaxes.”
Hauk let out a slow, audible breath. “He must have been drunker than hell to tell you that.”
Bastien rubbed at his neck. “Yeah. It was on what would have been their tenth anniversary. He didn’t handle it well. He even told me why they divorced, and I know that if I allowanythingto happen to you, he’ll hunt me down to the ends of the universe and gut me hard.”
“That I believe he would.” Dancer sat back as he started the airbee. “I’m headed up to bust ass. You joining or staying?”
Suddenly feeling like his old self again, Bastien grinned as he slung his leg over the airbee beside Dancer’s. “Always ready for a good fight. Especially when a mighty War Hauk’s involved.” He powered on the engine. “And I’m harboring a serious hard-on for anyone who hunts others for a living. I’d much rather be the predator than the prey.”
“Then welcome, brother.” Dancer inclined his head to him before he gunned the accelerator.
Bastien had no idea where they were going, and maybe it was stupid to join him. But it’d been too long since he’d felt like a unit, and honestly, he’d missed this.
Be careful where your loneliness takes you.
Then again, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. Until the chip was out of him, he couldn’t go after Barnabas. If he left this place, he’d be dead in a week, as it would trip every League alarm he came into contact with. And those fected things were lined up every few feet.
While he liked a good battle, even he had to sleep sometime and no one would fight that many assassins without a break.
So for now, he’d stay with Dancer and work as his wingman.
Dancer led him a few ticks away and then landed the airbike before he turned it off.
Cautious and alert, Bastien pulled in beside him.
Dancer removed the safeties and locks from his weapons while Bastien swung his dirty poncho over his shoulder and secured it so that the material wouldn’t get in his way during the fight.
Next, Bastien took inventory of his own weapons while Dancer secured his braids back from his face. Dancer unwound his long brown scarf from around his neck so that he could cover his head and the lower part of his face, no doubt to disguise the fact he was Andarion. Then he pulled out a pair of opaque eyeshields. Fully concealed, he took the container he’d scavenged from the assassins and waited for Bastien.
As soon as he was ready, they crept toward the shuttle where four men waited for their comrades to return with Dancer’s head.
“So what are you spending your money on?” a large, grimy man asked.
“Women,” his muscular companion said with a snort. “Lots of women.”
“Always looking for the next ex, eh?”
“Always.”
Dancer met Bastien’s gaze. “Cover me.”
He scowled at him. “Want to fill me in on your plan?”
“Told you already. Bust ass.”
Oh, okay.Sounded like one of Ember’s more infamous battle plans. Ill-conceived and guaranteed to get him shot.
But at least with her, she’d always kissed his boo-boos and made it up to him later. And while he was hornier than hell and Dancer was extremely attractive for a man, Bastien hadn’t been alone quite long enough to want to bed down with another man.
Yet.
Though another hour with Dancer, enough alcohol and darkness, and hemightbe persuaded…
Dancer rose to his feet and walked calmly toward the group. A breeze stirred, whipping the end of his scarf out while he entered their camp.
