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carrying her.
    His scent was alluring. There was an underlying element to it that reminded her of cooled sheets decorated with a few droplets of still-warm blood. She smiled against his skin and nipped at him. He jerked then his chest rumbled with that fascinating purr.
    Other men—no, they had that same deep voice of the Scoriah—spoke as they passed. She didn’t watch where they went. It was a simple ship and she’d seen as much as she needed when she’d come aboard. Closing her eyes, she let herself go back to the memory that Warrant’s scent tantalized her with.
    Sheets smeared with blood.
    Her eyes popped open and she curled her fingers into a fist at the back of Warrant’s neck. She couldn’t find the memory. Only that momentary scent and that vision of sheets. The violence that had preceded it was gone. So was the release that had come with that violence. A hint remained of it, but it was gone.
    She slammed her eyes closed and searched for the others.
    Killer, murderess, cold-hearted, psychopath. She’d been called all of those things and she remembered her sentencing, to be used, to have her memories plumbed and her crimes taken away. It was gone. All of it. All that remained was a sense of accomplishment, that she’d fed her rage and reveled in it.
    Gone. Huge gaps in herself. Her home. She couldn’t remember it. Looking deeper, casting about, searching desperately in her mind, she couldn’t find her family. She had one, didn’t she? Like Warrant, hadn’t she been deeply tied to her family?
    Aching bitterness flowed and a sense of utter loss swamped her. She took a deep breath and throwing her eyes open, she clutched at Warrant’s neck and laid on a thick wail. “They took it from me. They took it all from me.”
    “What? Who took it from you?”
    “My joy. All my sweet memories. They’re gone.”
     

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Warrant gently settled Chara onto the mess hall table and tried to extricate himself from the agitated woman. “Sit here.”
    “Don’t leave,” she insisted and didn’t let go. Her nails dug into the back of his neck but he easily brushed aside her hold. She was vicious, and he liked that, but he could handle her easily. He liked that even better.
    “This is the fugitive? What’s she doing with her little claws in you?” Echtei stood off to the side of the mess and crossed his arms over his chest. He stared at Chara.
    Warrant’s cheekbones ridged in primal reaction. His chest puffed and his claws clanked on the metal box of the medical kit. The words growled out of him unbidden, “I had sex with her first.”
    The entire mess went space-cold silent. Only after the utter stillness did he notice that everyone except for Tee stood there, staring at him, with their mouths open and eyes wide. Even Chara. Warrant shrugged and brought the kit back to the table. By the time he put it next to her, Chara had recovered and narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you doing?”
    Warrant took the skin sealant out and stared at the blood stains on her dress. He’d done that. Should he be ashamed, or not? He wasn’t sure. After all, he didn’t hurt innocents but she’d attacked him. Puzzling out how to tend the cuts without removing her dress, he answered her question. “They’d know in minutes, anyway. Our scents are mingled. Plus, they knew I expected a visitor.”
    “Why did you have sex with a fugitive? I thought you were hiring a woman.” Nick came forward.
    “That part doesn’t matter,” Echtei interrupted. “We have a boarding party on its way.”
    “They are not proper authorities.” Chara gave a haughty sounding sniff and raised her chin. “They are drug chemists. Thieves.”
    “They have the proper station credentials,” Ursula interjected.
    “Double check them,” Warrant urged her. His heart-sister nodded and, Grendel on her heels, went back to engineering and her preferred workstation.
    “While you were busy,” Nick chuckled and gave a wink. If the