Havoc by Ann Aguirre Read Free Book Online

conversation.
    â€œI’m telling you, it’s a mistake not to jump on this—”
    â€œYou’re a moron.” The smaller man thumped a fist to emphasize his impatience.
    The bigger one shoved to his feet, eyes veined in red. He had a fiery bulb of a nose that said he was a drunkard and on his way to liver failure. His knuckles were scarred from turns of issuing brutal beatings. “Let’s settle this right now.”
    Jael saw the moment when the other man realized things were about to escalate. “That’s exactly what that merc wants. You’re playing into his hands.”
    Jael paused by their table, flattening a palm between them. At the interruption, they both turned with vicious looks that faded when they realized he was the Dread Queen’s champion. That was a new experience for him; usually when he scared the shit out of other men, it was wholly due to his own nature.
    â€œThere’s too much bullshit at this table and not enough eating,” he snapped. “You want some help with that spoon?”
    There was a long silence, then the little one answered. “No, we’re good.”
    The rest of the room took a hint from the exchange, and the arguing died down. He leveled a long look across bearded faces, thin and sallow ones, bloodshot eyes, and sunken cheeks. Once he was sure they’d taken his message, he caught up with Dred, who was talking to Cook. Or rather, talking
at
him.
    Cook was a big man, tall as Einar had been but without the bulky muscles; he was burly and broad-shouldered, with pale skin and a bald head that gleamed as if no hair had ever grown on it. His hands and arms were scarred from multiple knife wounds, and a red tattoo snaked out from his sleeveless shirt. Jael studied the characters but couldn’t read the word. It wasn’t in universal, and his formal education didn’t offer a lot of variety.
    â€œThere are crates of organic in the storeroom,” Dred was saying. “If you need to restock the Kitchen-mate, talk to Tam.”
    The chef’s eyes flickered. Smart of her not to mention that he and Martine had the code, also. “So what’s on the menu?” Jael asked.
    The other raised both brows and gestured to the pot.
    â€œI’ll take a bowl.” Because that was the only option.
    Cook didn’t do special orders or substitutes. And he wasn’t fond of complaints either.
    To nobody’s surprise, the meal of the day was vegetable goulash with synth-protein stirred in. Cook slopped it into his bowl, but Jael had been eating scraps for so long in the Bug prison that the smell was faintly appetizing. Dred took her serving and stood, looking for a free seat. Really, she should commandeer one, but he sensed that she was feeling too tired to carry the Dread Queen crap at the moment.
    Vix stood up near the back wall and beckoned. Zediah glanced up to see who she was signaling, and he offered a fleeting smile. Jael touched Dred’s arm. “Over here.”
    â€œYou know them?” she asked.
    â€œSlightly.”
    â€œThey’re not much for fighting. No idea how the hell they ended up here.”
    That piqued his interest. “They came in together?”
    â€œOn the same transport.”
    â€œWonder if they committed their crimes together out there,” Jael whispered.
    Dred frowned at him as they joined the other two. She set her bowl down and started eating at once. Jael winked at Vix as he took a seat.
    Zediah said calmly, “Do that again, and I’ll pop your eye out.”
    â€œHe’s protective. Don’t mind him.”
    Jael knew a fleeting moment of curiosity as to how far back their connection went. Zediah hardly looked old enough to be incarcerated here, but it was possible he’d taken enough Rejuvenex to make him look eerily young. That would mean the man came from money, however, and had a fetish for “older women,” but curious as he was, Jael