With Lewis safe, Oliver stalked the under-corridors of Lunar One. The first name on the list was a smuggler of some renown…and the most likely to get a werewolf and an illegally bitten changeling off the moon with no questions asked.

  He was also the first place Charlotte and the agency were likely to look…or their client, for that matter, if they had half a brain. Keeping this in mind, Oliver approached the man’s headquarters with caution. While he had no intention of skipping out on delivery, the client wasn’t to know that…and the company would be searching for them, too.

  Rumor had it a contract had already been issued for both him and Lewis. It said they needed to be delivered alive...and there was something about their hides needing to be intact. Oliver smiled grimly to himself.

  No doubt the company wanted to take them apart itself—although how they knew his name well enough to add him to the contract was a little unclear…until he remembered the shuttle had surveillance and he hadn’t taken it out before entering…in his suit…with his helmet on…

  Oliver frowned. It had been equipped with bio-scans, as well?

  He wondered how much that news was worth to the client whose team had also gone on board.

  I’ll pass that on to Charlotte, he thought, and turned onto the underground concourse where the shady side of Lunar One did its business.

  Rumor also had it the Justiciars were aware of the place, but left it alone unless there was something they needed badly enough to intrude. Oliver’s heart sank.

  Given what he’d done to Lewis, the Justiciars were sure to make their presence felt down here…but not yet. And not until he and Lew were long gone, if he was lucky.

  Unlike the more legitimate doctors in the city, Doc Nielsen wasn’t obliged to report an unauthorized bite. Oliver had a little time…and the doc had made sure Lewis was in a tank made for wolves. His friend was contained.

  Oliver just had to keep him that way until the worst of the change had passed.

  He took his time entering the street, scanning for anyone from the team that had taken down the company’s shuttle. They’d insisted on taking him along, ‘in case your friend decides to give us trouble,’ their leader had said.

  Ava Derenda. Oliver shivered. The woman was all human, but she had a heart like the lunar surface. That is, if she had a heart at all. Pulling his attention back to the scene before him, he scanned the street again.

  It looked like one of the early hangars, a relic from the days when the emergency evacuation from Earth had left little time to set up more than a way-point for people leaving the planet. Of course, it could just as well have been something that came later, a secret place bored out of the rock and expanded to suit the fledgling colony’s less legitimate businessmen.

  He didn’t see any of Ava’s team…or anyone who looked like a corporate merc, but that didn’t mean they weren’t here. The trade center was secret, not unknown. Oliver took a meandering path down the shop fronts opposite the side tunnel he needed to take.

  Sure, Li Aram had a legitimate office on the main drag, but that wasn’t the entrance Oliver needed. Unfortunately, the smuggler narrowed the approaches to his ‘other’ office to one—and that one he monitored to within an inch of its life. Bolt-holes he had plenty, but no-one knew them.

  When he was sure no-one was lingering where he didn’t need them to, Oliver crossed the street. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he traversed the main walkway and spent a couple of credits at a window café to pick up a coffee and a meat roll. Breakfast had been a very long way away, and he didn’t want to face the upcoming negotiation on an empty stomach.

  His temper was bad enough as it was.

  Roll in hand, Oliver took a sip of his coffee and strolled into the alley. He relaxed a little when no one followed him in, but he didn’t let his guard down. Two of Li’s cameras were easy to spot, but the ones the smuggler hadn’t intended to be seen were not.

  Oliver was sure he’d noted another two as he passed through the intersection, and a third, halfway down the first building. He was just as sure he’d missed more, and that Li had more than just visual means of identifying potential guests.

  His suspicions were confirmed when two large figures came around the corner of the next intersection, but he kept walking as if he didn’t know they were coming for him. For all he knew they might just be heading back to the main drag, business completed.

  That idea was dashed as their heads lifted and their ears swiveled toward him.

  “Well, good afternoon, gentlemen,” he murmured, and didn’t bother to waste time wondering how his true nature had been identified.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  A second’s tension ran through them, before they angled toward him, but Oliver held his course—even when they wheeled around him and settled on either side…like old friends meeting an acquaintance.

  “Mr. Aram sends his apologies, but his offices are closed to you,” one murmured, his breath licking Oliver’s ear.

  “Instead, he offers a favor for past favors,” the other one added in a voice just as low, his breath just as warm.

  They angled him to the left.

  “He strongly suggests the third name on your list, if Doc N’s advice is what he provides under the standard plan,” the first one added.

  “And he says his debt is reduced two markers,” the second one told him, in a tone that said there was no room for negotiation.

  They steered him subtly into the shadowed door of another café, one plucking his mostly full cup from his fingers and depositing it in a trash recycler, while the other took his half-eaten roll and did the same.

  “Ours is the second-last booth on the right,” the first were said. “If you stay, Mr. Aram says his debt is paid in full.”

  Oliver felt a tremor of unease. “In full?”

  “Only his offices are closed,” the second wolf clarified as they reached the designated booth. “Will you be staying?”

  The desire to stay and see what Li thought would erase all debt between them, warred with the desire to leave and take his chances by himself. Oliver hesitated, forcing himself to calm, as he turned the options over in his skull.

  Li did owe him, that much was true, but the markers had been seven. What kind of favor did the smuggler think wiped another five from the slate?

  Well, there’s only one way to find out… he decided.

  “I’ll stay,” he told his escorts, and the first one laid a clawed hand on his shoulder and turned him so they were face to face. Catching Oliver’s eyes with his own, he fixed him with a direct stare. It was a challenge in wolf terms, but his escort didn’t appear worried by the tension that shivered under his touch.

  “Do you accept the terms?” he asked, a slight growl roughening the edges of his words.

  Oliver felt his lips curl in response, and fought to keep his human side on the surface. He was a dominant, not quite an alpha, but that was due to a lack of desire more than anything else. Oliver did not wish the responsibilities being an alpha would bring.

  Being dominant did not require such things, as long as he was willing to submit.

  The direct stare Li’s messenger gave him, was a calculated challenge, but Oliver recognized the underlying meanings. Firstly, it was a challenge issued by an alpha, which meant Li thought the message and service he was offering were important enough to risk a fight over.

  Secondly, it was the smuggler’s only way of making it clear the terms of the bargain were not negotiable. Oliver stood a good chance of beating the alpha, but doing so would mean taking his place, and the wolf served Li. If Oliver defeated him, he was agreeing to whatever contract currently covered that service.

  …and he didn’t agree to any contract without reading the terms first.

  The other wolf waited, Oliver blinked, lowering his head in submission, and turning it slightly to show his throat.

  “Li Aram’s debt is clear if I remain in the booth for the next…” he hesitated, not sure how long he was intended to stay. He wasn’t going to promise to stay forever.

  The two wolves exchanged glances, and the second one consulted a tablet he took from his jacket.

  “Two hours,” he supplied.

  “Two hours,” the alpha confirmed, and Oliver hesitated.

  Two hours was a long time in this world. He glanced around the café, not entirely reassured by its emptiness.

  “Your safety has been guaranteed,” the second wolf told him, “or the debt doubles.”

  It did, did it? Now, that was interesting.

  “Very well, Li Aram’s debt is clear if I enter and remain in the booth for the next two hours and if that solves the problem I wished to speak to him about, provided I remain safe and able to continue my day’s plans,” he said, hoping he’d covered all contingencies.

  There was trust, and then there was stupidity.

  “If I cannot continue with my day as I had planned, or if I am injured in any way, Li Aram’s debt to me doubles,” he continued. And a fat lot of good it will do me if I’m dead.

  He raised his eyes, meeting the alpha’s gaze with a hard stare. His voice was just as hard as he added, “Those are the only terms I will accept.”

  The wolf cocked his head, his eyes taking on the distant look of someone communicating via implant. Oliver waited, careful to lower his eyes. Having given his submission, he did not wish to accidentally challenge the alpha beyond making the terms clear.

  It wasn’t long before the wolf’s eyes snapped back into focus.

  “Mr. Aram says those terms are acceptable, and thanks you for your understanding.”

  He shifted a little to the right, and Oliver realized he’d been subtly blocked from entering the booth until he’d agreed. The two wolves stepped away.

  “Food will be brought shortly, and drink. Mr. Aram guarantees their safety.”

  Oliver frowned. Such things were easy to guarantee when you weren’t there to prove them.

  As if reading his mind, the wolf reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box.

  “He also says to tell you some things never change, and he is not offended by your caution.”

  He dropped the box on the table, letting Oliver identify it as a kit that would flag most ingestible toxins.

  Oliver nodded, covering the kit with his hand and pulling it closer. His gesture made the alpha frown, and the big wolf stooped to put his face close to Oliver’s own. The growl in his next words was unmistakable.

  “Mr. Aram is not offended at your luck of faith,” the wolf told him, “but I am.”

  Oliver raised his head, deliberately meeting the alpha’s eyes.

  “Mr. Aram knows my past,” he explained, choosing a more peaceful route, and just as quickly dropping his gaze, “and understands the scars. You can ask him why he is not offended, but I will not explain it.”

  “I could order it.”

  Oliver rose from his seat.

  “I can always leave.”

  The wolf froze, his eyes flashing blank. This time when they focused, he gestured for Oliver to resume his seat.

  “Mr. Aram wishes you to know that won’t be necessary,” he said, and turned abruptly from the booth.

  His partner gave Oliver a puzzled look, but said nothing, merely closing the curtain as they left.

  Oliver checked his implant for messages, but found none. It made him wonder what Li was playing at, and what sacrifices the smuggler was making in order to keep him safe.

  Perhaps the universe would allow him to ask, one day.