“Gods.” He took a deep breath. “Feels good to fly again.”

“Feels good to be flown,” Mara replied, then cursed as she squeezed off several rounds at pursuing mercs. Two went down, but more kept coming. And only a handful turned around when they saw that Kell headed straight for the storm. The lure of profit overrode their sense of self-

preservation.

The ship bucked as it pierced the thick energy clouds. He engaged the filters and rode the storm.

What had been a painful, shuddering trek in Mara’s larger, less advanced scavenger ship felt far more sinuous and fluid in the Black Wraith. He had only to think where he needed his ship to be, and it slid perfectly into place.

But it wasn’t an easy glide. Lightning and plasma fire streaked around them as mercs kept up their pursuit. He did not flinch when a bolt of lightning struck a close-flying merc ship. Hunks of metal went everywhere as the ship tore apart. Mara cursed at the explosion, then cursed once more, this time in exultation, as more pursuers dropped back, daunted by the storm.

Two mercs jostled their ships into position ahead of the Black Wraith. Through his ship’s sensors, he noted that the mercs were powering up their magnetic tow nets. Clearly, they wanted to keep the Black Wraith intact so Gavra could try and sell it—and him and Mara.

Like hell.

He timed it exactly. He saw the coalescing energy that presaged a lightning strike, and guided the ship close. Pushing the mercs right where he wanted them to be.

A boom as lightning obliterated one merc ship. Mara’s gunfire from the turret took care of the other.

The mercs that remained finally grew some brains. They peeled off in retreat.

Mara shouted her jubilation. “If we had time, I’d kiss you.”

His blood, already hot from the thrill of combat, turned incendiary at her casually thrown words.

It was primitive and brutal, his need. They had fought together, fought well, and now his body demanded that he claim her. Now. But that was impossible. He had to get them through the storm,

through the Smoke Quadrant, Ilden’s Lash, and then make it back the rest of the way to base. Danger at every stage. No time for giving in to his hunger for her.

And the Black Wraith was advanced, but not advanced enough to suddenly accommodate two people making love in the cockpit.

For the first time Kell cursed his ship.

He piloted the Black Wraith through the remainder of the storm, riding the tempest’s swells and pulses. Abruptly, the thick clouds gave way. The ship broke through to the dark quiet of space.

The Arcadia waited for them.

“Gods, I wasn’t sure I would see you two again,” Celene said over the comm.

“Don’t insult me,” Kell replied.

“I forgot my rescuer was the indestructible Commander Frayne.”

“With help,” Mara added. “How’s my baby?” Concern threaded her voice.

“She took the storm like a champion slange wrestler. No damage to the hull.”

Mara let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

“A friend of Kell’s…”

Friend. He wondered if Mara considered herself his friend. Gods knew, he thought of her as that, and more. He didn’t just desire Mara. He admired her. Liked her. He wondered if what she felt for him was strong enough, if she could alter her flight plan to bring him into her life.

He couldn’t consider any of this. Not until he’d gotten everyone safely back to base. Only then could he allow himself to think about the future.

As they flew in a two-ship convoy, Celene told them over the comm about her capture and confinement.

“It was my own fault.” Harsh self-recrimination edged her voice. “I was tricked by a false distress call, and when I got close, the pirates used some variety of electro-pulse device on me. It knocked my ship’s systems off line, temporarily disabling it, and that’s when the…ambush happened.”

There was more to her story. He heard it in her minute hesitation. Something had happened to her during her captivity, but he knew Celene well enough to understand than now wasn’t the time to delve deeper.

He stuck to the details she had offered. “8th Wing hasn’t heard anything about an electro-pulse device. Not one that could temporarily disable a Black Wraith.” He frowned, troubled by the idea. A squad of Black Wraiths could be taken out of commission in a moment, leaving a dozen vulnerable pilots floating in space. They, and their ships, would be fair game, just as Celene had been.

“Where did it come from?” asked Mara.

“Ask the gods.” Celene couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. “Whoever built it, 8th Wing needs to hear about it. Maybe track down its origin. I know I’ll fly easier once that thing is out of the equation.”

“Agreed.” Kell held the controls tighter. The Black Wraiths were one of the few assets 8th Wing had in the ongoing war with PRAXIS, and they needed to hang on to every advantage.

Spotting the telltale red glow of Ilden’s Lash, he added, “The plasma storm was the undercard.

Ready for the title fight?”

Mara chuckled as Celene’s cursing filtered over the comm. “I didn’t have to navigate that on my way in.”

“Want me to take over for you?” Mara clearly wanted her ship back.

“Not a chance,” Celene answered. “I might enjoy this.” She cut the comm line.

“Damn Black Wraith hotshots,” Mara grumbled. “A bunch of danger-loving lunatics.”

“You’d fit right in.” It made a strange kind of sense. She had the flying skill, the courage, and, yes, some of the recklessness that made for an ace pilot.

Mara, fighting beside him. Flying beside him. Visualizing it, he felt a sharp, brilliant contraction in his chest.

Did she even have a choice? The life she knew was over—every smuggler and scavenger would soon know that she had fought on the side of the 8th Wing. She would be hunted through the galaxy, an outcast. Again. Because of him.

He cursed the fact that he couldn’t see Mara’s face, wondering what her reaction might be.

Anger? Derision? Flat-out rejection?

Finally, she laughed. The sound was hard, forced. “8th Wing standards would have to be lowered to let in a scavenger like me.”

Gods, she really had no idea of her worth.

“Raised, not lowered. They’d be damn lucky to have you.” I would be lucky to have you. “And, Mara, it was over between Celene and me a long time ago.”

He was actually grateful to enter the hazards of Ilden’s Lash, demanding his full attention. In this round, he finally had the controls, and it was a hell of a lot more interesting than being a passive passenger. Light and nimble, the Black Wraith slipped through the gaps between the protoplanets. It felt as natural as breathing, as quick as life, and Kell couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“Black Wraith Squad should use Ilden’s Lash for training.” He slid the ship through a narrow passage. Molten rock ribboned around the wings like streamers of fire.

“Wish I could take the controls.” Yearning filled Mara’s voice.

“Join the squad and you can.”

“Stop tempting me.”

He tried a little diversionary tactic. “Celene’s handling the Lash well.”

The tactic worked, for he heard Mara shifting in her seat. She let out a series of impressed curses as she watched another pilot fly her ship through the deadly band. The Arcadia was larger and much less maneuverable than a Black Wraith, yet even Mara couldn’t deny that Celene took the Lash expertly, flying the scavenger ship with almost as much skill as herself.

“I don’t know if I hate her or admire her for being so good,” Mara said. “As long as she keeps my ship in one piece, I think I’ll like her. Maybe.”

He knew that professional envy well—it kept him and the other squad pilots sharp, trying to outdo each other, trying to be the best. Right now he was the best, but he’d never let himself grow complacent. Complacency killed on Sayén, and it rendered a pilot obsolete in the Black Wraith Squad.