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In search of some clue as to Gelda’s origins, our crew sets course for Frannin, Zadde’s home planet, where Ferda commits a galactic felony by stealing Zadde's business records, and Rand discovers bounty hunters never give up…
“We may not succeed,” Drak said, stroking Ferda’s hair in an oddly uncharacteristic gesture of tenderness. She wanted to ask him if he was feeling himself. She was perfectly aware this was a wild goose chase but since he and Rand had humored her determination to learn something about their inadvertent stowaway, Gelda, it would be churlish to snap. And getting smart mouthed with a vampire wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea. Instead she kissed his belly, just a centimeter or two above his cock, and smiled. “I know the odds are we’ll never learn anything, but given Zadde was tortured and murdered just after he palmed Gelda off on us, there must be something going on.” “Undoubtedly, given his standards of doing business but I doubt we’re the only ones wanting information.” Wasn’t every lover who discussed business ethics in the afterglow of passion but it wasn’t deflating Drak’s ardor. The reverse almost. But when she kissed up to his navel and then started down again, he put his hand on her head. “Ferda, I can’t fuck you without taking your blood and any more today and you’ll be fainting at the console while you’re on watch.” She should be insulted at the suggestion she wasn’t aa hale and strong as she’d been at seventy, but didn’t. He was right. “Shame that.” “My dear, you are insatiable.” Nice thought but she was actually a bit sore from the second time when he’d really been enthusiastic. “Maybe. But I can contain myself.” She eased herself to sitting. “Want to sleep?” “Soon.” Funny how they knew exactly when Terran sunrise came even, from half a galaxy away. “Stay a little while.” “Something bothering you?” “Yes. Not really. It’s like this...” Men didn’t change when they became vampire. She waited. He’d cough it out in his own good time. “Something I overhead, on the Hub, while Rand and I were waiting to interview applicants. Didn’t get the significance at the time but given what we know now,”Drak paused. He’d better get a move on or he’d be out cold before he finished. “There was a group across the bar. Looked like roughs so I decided to keep my ears open.” Not a hard thing to do with vamp hearing. “Most of it was banal, mortal gossip but they made mention of someone they called the Z-trader.” Didn’t take much imagination to connect that to Zadde. “What did they say.” “That his nasty end was his own fault for trying to double cross the Bayrans.” “Who are the Bayrans?” It wasn’t a name she’d ever encountered and she’d traipsed around the galaxy most of her life. “Nasty characters, apparently.” “Doing their own dirty work, or being paid by someone?” It was a rhetorical question and he treated it as such. “Would be nice to know.” “With luck, we will,” Drak replied.
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