Cosmic Love & Stardust

Chapter 1

A nyone good? I asked, leaning over Zula’s shoulder.

She snorted. I’m pretty sure my definition of good and yours differ greatly. She continued to flip through images of potential bounties on our ship’s central computer.

I stabbed my finger against the screen. Oh! What about that one? Pictured was a large humanoid male—red skin, shaved head, Species Class 4. Could be interesting. He was last seen not too far from our current location. Possible easy money. My favorite kind.

Zula sank back into her seat, the worn leather creaking as she heaved a huge sigh. Allow me to jog your memory about what happened the last time you went after a Species Class 4.

I raised my hands into the air, backing up a few steps. Hey, hey now. Everything turned out fine.

After you spent two weeks in a coma.

My mind flashed to the little incident Zula was referring to.

Put your hands up and turn around nice and slow, I growled, hopefully loud enough for tall, green, and scaly to hear me. I eyed my laser handgun to make sure I had the safety off, wishing I hadn’t let Tamzea talk me into the stupid contraption. I missed my vintage 9mm Earth gun, but unfortunately it was useless against some species, especially the kind with armor-like skin. I had that lesson beaten into me the hard way.

Lizard-man, as I’d dubbed him in my head since I’d already forgotten his name, turned around slowly to face me. Are you talking to me, hu-mutt?

Oh no he didn’t! I knew I shouldn’t let it get to me. I’d heard the term so many times I couldn’t count it anymore. It shouldn’t, but it definitely did get under my skin when I was referred to by the derogatory slang for genetically spliced humans. Hu-mutt … not even the tiniest bit clever if you asked me. Obviously, no one ever did.

I demonstratively tapped my left ear, where one of my interpreter implants was located. "I’m sorry, one or both of my interpreters must be malfunctioning. I know you didn’t just call me a hu-mutt," I spat, the word bitter on my tongue.

A slow smile spread across Lizard-man’s face, revealing razor-sharp teeth. I stifled a shudder. He was seriously ugly. They’re working just fine.

As my trigger finger twitched, I reminded myself that Lizard-man was wanted alive, and I wouldn’t get paid if I killed him. I bared my own teeth in a mock smile. I’m really going to enjoy taking you in. I’ll try not to spend—

I sucked in a breath. Soft light shimmered around him, building steadily in intensity. I fumbled my left hand for my PAER—Psychic And Energy Reader—which was hooked onto my belt. It would tell me exactly what was going on with the light show, and how potentially dangerous it was for me. As soon as I pointed it at Lizard-man, it flashed a bright red.

Oh shit, I muttered.

A moment later, my world exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors before everything went dark.

Don’t be such a downer. Danger goes with the job. And I was fine … after I woke up. No harm no foul. I crossed my arms over my chest, scanning the details of the potential bounty. Species Class 4 could mean anything. Zula hated the unknown, which was exactly what that classification translated to.

I just don’t like—

"I know, I know … anything unpredictable, which rules out all Species Class 4s. But let me remind you that they are always worth the most money."

I don’t like it.

Of course you don’t. You’re a Galvraron. You like everything planned and plotted out, I singsonged, my tone mocking. Not knowing what we’re going up against gives you a panic attack.

Narrowing her eyes, Zula tucked one side of her chin-length flaxen hair behind her ear. Galvrarons have the highest IQs of any species. Our brains—

Yes, yes, you’re a genius. You’re all geniuses. But none of you know how to have any fun … Smurfette. I grinned, waiting for her reaction.

A low growl vibrated in Zula’s throat, her knuckles going white as she clenched her fists. She hated when I called her Smurfette. It couldn’t be helped, though. I mean, Zula did have blonde hair and blue-ish-tinged skin. Stop using archaic Earth references around or referring to me. You weren’t born on Earth. It was destroyed decades before you were even—

It’s my heritage! I’m human!

Part human. And what does that have to do with your obsession with Earth culture? Everything you can get your hands on you—

I slammed my palms down on top of the computer screen, the image wavering for an instant from impact. Hunk of junk needs replaced soon. Which is why I need to pull in some easy money. Message whoever has the claim out for the Class 4. Let them know we’re interested and get the rest of the details.

I spun on my heels, stalking from the control room. As much as I loved my crew, none of them understood my attachment to Earth culture. I may not be one hundred percent human, but I didn’t know what my mixed genetics were. I simply wanted to feel like I was from somewhere, like I belonged to some kind of rich history, instead of the failed science experiment I really was. Other species took pride in their heritage. What was wrong with me doing the same thing? Nothing, as far as I’m concerned.

My gaze roamed over the dark metal corridors of my ship as I trudged along. Although more than some of The Pittsburgh’s equipment needed to be replaced or an overhaul, the bones of my baby would always take me where I wanted to go. I ran my fingertips over an oblong dent in the center of my door. I don’t remember what happened here. Huh. Did I do this on one of my firejuice benders? I shrugged, punching the unlock code into the worn keypad.

Once inside my living quarters, I hurled myself onto my bed face first, groaning. The scent of stale, fading fabric softener assaulted my nose. When was the last time I washed these? Ugh. Who cares? I was getting antsy, focusing on inane things. I needed an exciting hunt in my life soon or I would have to jettison myself out into space to die. I know, a bit dramatic, but I blame my unknown genetics.

I didn’t know much about my DNA. The only clue I had to my other half was that I could withstand any level of fire without injury. Very helpful at times, especially against flamethrowers. I’d also found that out the hard way. Or in the end, it had been a lucky discovery, although a bit too late in my life. One of the reasons I’d been rejected from any kind of training program on New Earth was because I’d never shown any useful abilities. No one wanted a normal human anymore, not even my parents. It was fine with me, though. I was happy as captain of my own ship, hunting down the scum of the Universe for money. Actually, I didn’t care if they were scum or not, I’d haul in almost anyone for the right price tag.

My door buzzed, sliding abruptly open. Should’ve locked it. Scowling, I sat up as Tamzea strode in, her lavender eyes narrowed, and her pale skin flushed. I heard you were planning on going after another Class 4? She stopped in front of me, her hands on her hips. Are you insane?

We could use the money. The ship needs maintenance. Lots of maintenance.

There are plenty of other options in the database, Jane.

Rolling my eyes, I flopped back onto my bed. Tamzea worried about me too much. She was a Mazatimz, a species of healer who appeared human, except for their lavender eyes and hair. Most of them ended up as some kind of doctor somewhere. They also drove everyone insane with their constant worrying and overprotectiveness. Or at least that was my theory.

I’m a bit bored, too, I muttered, tracing the pattern of flowers on my sheets with my index finger.

Tamzea was silent as she moved around my quarters touching various objects … dolls, knick-knacks, baubles I didn’t even have names for. I trailed her movements with only my eyes. She picked up one of my human history books, flipping through it without actually looking at it. I don’t want you to be injured again. One day I may not be able to heal you. My powers can only do so much.

We all know that day will come, no use worrying about it, I retorted. You know I’d rather live a short, exciting life than a long, boring one. Just as long as it stays uncomplicated and drama free.

"That is the human in you. Tamzea slid my book back on its shelf and came to stand in front of me again. She absently fiddled with her signature crown of braids piled on top of her head, the lines on her face deepening. So there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?"

I grinned. Nope.

She shook her head slowly while studying me. It’s a wonder purebred humans lasted as long as they did. I don’t know how any of them lived past infancy. To think that hybrids like yourself are thought to be an improvement. It truly boggles my mind.

Hey, I snapped. I knew what she was trying to do, but I wasn’t going to fall for it. I’m not changing my mind no matter how much you insult my human side. Now get out of here so I can get some shut-eye.

Tamzea frowned, and then scuffled for my door, pausing before exiting to peer at a black light poster depicting a prowling panther. Where do you find this stuff?

I shrugged. It’s pretty easy to come by actually. It’s surprisingly not that much in demand.

Tamzea snorted loudly before muttering, That should tell you something. She ducked out into the corridor without another word, shutting my door behind her.

As soon as she was gone I locked the door and flicked off the lights. Settling in for what promised to be another restless night, I hoped I could at least get a few hours of sleep.

I really do need some excitement in my life before I go insane. If it’s not already too late.

Chapter 2

F uck me, I groaned. My PAER flashed red, the light reflecting eerily off the freshly cleaned metal corridor walls of the supply space station. Not again.

If I lived to tell the tale, I was never going to hear the end of it from my crew. Tall, big, and bald had seemed like he was going to be an easy takedown. I tracked him to a nearby supply space station in practically no time at all. I’d thought it was a sign that it was meant to be. I hate when I’m wrong.

Even as my PAER kept flashing red, nothing was happening. Frowning, I craned my neck forward. Umm … whatcha doin’ there?

My paycheck gritted his teeth, his hands rubbing together in a circular motion. The entire situation was a bit confusing, and because of it, I was utterly transfixed. I should have run, yet I continued to linger, the choice fueled by nothing short of stupidity. After all, I wasn’t a cat and I only had one life, so if curiosity killed me … I was screwed.

He’s trying to build fire. A smooth baritone voice tickled my senses, causing the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to lift. Something in my stomach fluttered, but I chose to ignore it.

I blinked rapidly but didn’t take my eyes off the scene in front of me. What? I muttered.

"I said he’s trying to build fire. You might want to leave before he turns you and your … interesting outfit into ashes."

What? I repeated, annoyance causing my ears to heat. Did you just insult my clothes?

I always dressed carefully when on a job. I had a reputation to uphold, after all. Nice clothes meant I was pulling good bounties, which garnered respect. I’d worked my ass off to get where I was, and now I had access to top-grade bounties. Only a few of my peers had the same level of street cred and connections in the UGFS that I did. Considered the best of the best, I secretly thought it had a lot to do with how I dressed.

In preparation for this gig, I’d carefully selected one of the new outfits I’d recently purchased from an Earth Museum that was permanently closing. The curator had assured me that the pristine pieces were legitimate nineteenth-century Earth clothing, called Steampunk. I was already attached to the vibe, especially the leather pants with all their adornments, and thought I looked pretty damn good, too.

A grunt met my ears. I just warned you about your imminent demise, and you’re worried about your clothes. Well there, sweetheart, I’m thinking you might want to stop—

I whirled around to face my tormentor, my bounty temporarily forgotten. Oh, dear God, I murmured, unable to contain my reaction. Because of course he’s attractive … of course.

His eyes were what caught my attention first. They were like molten-gold, warm and bright, ringed with a deep amber shade. Set behind long, inky lashes, they gazed at me with a palpable arrogance that had me grinding my teeth.

Continuing my perusal, I noted the way his midnight hair had a slight wave to it, a rogue curl sweeping across his bronzed forehead. My fingers itched to touch that silky scrap of hair, to push it off his face before running my hands down the scruff on his chiseled jaw. I idly wondered if it would be soft, or if it would abrade my palms pleasantly? I shook my head to dispel the thought.

He was a good deal taller than my height of five-foot-ten, his arms and chest corded with lithe muscles encased in more delectably bronzed skin. His clothes gave me pause though, all his rugged refinement was shoved into loosely fitted cargo pants, and a sleeveless shirt. The color of both a dingy green.

Even I had to admit that despite his abysmal choice in clothing, he was absolutely stunning. And he definitely knew it.

Everything about him makes me want to punch him in his smug face.

"God? I haven’t heard that term in a long time. His golden eyes danced with mirth. A human?"

I clenched my jaw so tight I was lucky my teeth didn’t crack. At least he didn’t call me a hu-mutt. That’s a step in the right direction. Go away. I’m busy. I turned my attention back to my bounty—the would-be fire-starter—who was no longer there.

Squeezing my eyes shut for a brief moment, I swore under my breath. Then with nostrils flaring, and anger thrumming through my veins, I slowly turned back around to face Mr. Sexy … and Annoying. He got away thanks to you.

I saved your life, you mean. He would have burnt you to a crisp.

Marching the few feet of distance between us, I poked him roughly in the chest with the end of my laser gun. I should shoot you. You just cost me a lot of money. Maybe I could sell your parts for a decent chunk of change.

He would have—

Look, asshat, fire I can handle. He would have been some seriously easy money.

His full lips curled up into a sneer. You may think you can handle fire, but—

I dug my gun harder into his chest. I said I could have handled it! I—

My next breath lodged in my lungs when his large hand came up to wrap around my wrist. Warmth suffused my system with sudden intensity, and I gazed up into his golden eyes, which seemed to flicker with flames. The urge to lean into him, to press my mouth to his, to rub my body against his … to throw him to the ground and—

What the hell? I grated, yanking away from him.

But Mr. Sexy and Annoying appeared to be as stunned as I was.

It was undoubtedly a ploy.

He pursed his lips, and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. A white-hot fury boiled my blood. He was obviously packing some kind of pheromone or seduction power, one that he was currently trying to use on me.

Oh, hell, no. I’m not having any of that shit.

I tapped my finger on the trigger of my gun menacingly, getting his attention. "You stay the hell away from me or I swear to God, I’ll kill you."

Backing away from him slowly, I kept my gaze locked with his. "I mean it, I will kill you." I spun on my heels, and dashed off to where my ship was docked.

And my day started with such promise.

In a bad mood to rival all bad moods, a colorful array of obscenities spewed from my mouth, slamming into anyone within earshot. There was just something about Mr. Sexy and Annoying that had gotten under my skin. It was probably because he’d managed to cost me my bounty, insult me, and I’d still been attracted to him. He must have been packing some serious magic mojo to pull that one off.

I’d been emotionally and mentally violated … and was strangely turned on. My skin was too hot, and sweat dribbled down my spine, my body humming with need. His piercing gaze hovered in the forefront of my mind, taunting and sexy. Aaaah! I should have shot him, I grumbled, stomping my way towards my living quarters. And to make matters worse, I’d let my crew down. There was no way I could face any of them right now. We needed the money and—

Jane! Masha, our ship’s engineer, called out to me as I passed the engine room.

Grimacing, I sped up my pace, trying to ignore her. Unfortunately for me, she excelled at getting underfoot, mine in particular. Her tiny five-foot-one frame maneuvered with lightning-speed to stop in front of me, her solid black eyes snagging mine. We need to talk. She anxiously twirled one of her dark curls around her finger, her normally silver-toned skin so pale it appeared almost grey.

Sagging with sudden exhaustion, I leaned one arm against the wall for support. I knew exactly what Masha wanted to talk about. We’ll get the maintenance done as soon as we can. I can’t get blood out of a stone, Masha.

Her bottom lip quivered. "What happened with the bounty