He didn’t acknowledge her in any other way, just went back to his work. Soon, a staff member came in. The man wore a crew uniform and kept his head down over the tray he carried. She didn’t pay him much attention, except to note his uniform was pulled too tight across his stocky shoulders. Sloppy of the Institute.
The man set the tray on a side table with a mumble, and shuffled back toward the door.
Niklas turned over two cups and poured the tea from the pot. Fragrant steam filled the air. He pulled one cup closer and pushed the other one in her direction. She shot him a wry smile and breathed deep. She caught the scent of berries and citrus oil.
Then, she noted movement at the edge of the room.
The man had never left. Instead, he was pulling out a disruptor pistol and sneaking up behind Niklas.
Gunn.
She should have recognized him, even wearing that ill-fitting uniform. God, Niklas messed with her senses. She rose, pulling out three of her shuriken throwing stars.
Niklas was staring at the documents again, completely oblivious.
Gunn got closer, raising the pistol. Nera’s hand tightened on the throwing star.
Suddenly Niklas moved. Fast. He spun, shoving his chair back into Gunn. Gunn stumbled and Niklas landed a hard punch to the man’s face. Gunn hit the floor, and a second later, Niklas pressed the chair over the downed treasure hunter. One chair leg was pressed against Gunn’s throat, making him choke and splutter.
“Attacking from behind.” Niklas’ voice was calm and controlled. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Fuck you, Phoenix.”
“Ah, and there’s that sparkling intellect of yours.” Niklas pulled the chair back and set it back at the desk. “Get out of here.”
Gunn rose and Nera saw his hands flexing, forming fists. Niklas was already turning away when Gunn let out a short roar and ran at him.
Gunn rammed into Niklas, driving him into the wall.
Nera had had enough. She shimmered out of her camouflage and tossed the shurikens in quick succession.
“What the hell?” Niklas fought against the two throwing stars pinning his shirt to the wall. He shot her an angry glare.
She ignored him and focused on Gunn. He was cradling his hand. Her third shuriken was lodged in his palm. Blood flowed down his arm.
“You nearly cut my thumb off!” he yelled.
“Just be grateful I didn’t slice it off…like I did your finger.” Nera walked toward him and reached back over her shoulder. She pulled her Tauvi sword from its scabbard on her back. It looked like a black baton…until she shook it and the long, silver blade extended.
She had the pleasure of seeing every drop of color drain from Gunn’s face. She held the tip of the blade to the man’s throat.
“If I see you attack anyone on our team again, I’ll gut you.” She let the blade kiss his skin before moving it downward. She sliced two buttons off his shirt and let the point rest against his belly. He gasped and she took a step closer, the sword end putting uncomfortable pressure on him. “And if I see you come after Phoenix again, I’ll hurt you so badly, you’ll be sobbing for me to kill you.”
A large drop of sweat rolled down Gunn’s forehead and down his scruffy cheek. “You his guard dog, then?”
“No. But if anyone is going to cause him pain, it’ll be me.” She stepped back and lowered her sword.
Gunn stared at her for a second before he dropped his gaze. Muttering, he stalked out.
Nera strode over to Niklas and yanked one star out. Niklas poked a finger through the hole in his shirt and shook his head. “I had it under control.”
This close to him, she smelled his scent. That dark, masculine essence that she found intoxicating. “Gunn doesn’t like you.”
Niklas snorted. “He hates you more.”
“But he’s scared of me.” She pulled the second star out.
“And he underestimates me.” Niklas grabbed her arm. “I did have it under control, Nera. I’m hardly helpless.”
