“From an orgasm? Oh yeah.” The fool leaned down to kiss me.

  With an aggravated sigh, I levitated Casanova twenty feet into the air.

  His eyes bugged out and he screamed like a girl. “What are you? What are you?”

  “Remember? The Grim Reaper. I did ask you if you wanted to die. Well, do ya?” I floated him out over the ocean. “Have you ever swum with the sharks?”

  “Put me down! Put me down, you crazy bitch.”

  “Ok.” I dropped him.

  Splash! The Casanova sank beneath the waves. Crap! There was no way I was doing mouth-to-mouth on that little creep. To my relief he bobbed to the surface and swam toward me.

  Casey put three beer bottles on the table. “Not too bright, is he?”

  “Nope.” I picked up a bottle and took a long swallow.

  “You fucking bitch, I’m going to have you arrested,” Casanova yelled as he stumbled out of the water. “Do you know who my father is?”

  I pointed at my face. “Does it look like I give a shit? If I were you, I’d go back to your hotel and sleep it off, before I do something you’re gonna regret.”

  Casanova snarled, “Are you threatening me?”

  “Nah. I’m just offering you some sound advice.”

  Detja placed two fajitas platters on the table and looked Casanova dead in the eye. “Go back to your hotel.”

  He blinked rapidly, turned on his heel and left.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Detja smiled. “My pleasure. Liquor and hormones never mix.”

  “Trouble’s heading our way,” Casey warned.

  I groaned when I spotted Zarek’s grim-faced security detail storming down the beach. “You’ve already kicked their asses once today. What makes them think this time will be any different?”

  “Testosterone,” Casey answered.

  Detja scowled and held out her hands. “I will not allow them to disrupt our girl’s night out. Shall we depart to another restaurant?”

  “You betcha,” I said and took her left hand.

  Casey grabbed her right hand. “Damn right. We deserve to have a little fun.”

  A black void engulfed us and presto. We were standing on a graffiti covered sidewalk. In the dim pewter light, the shabby garishly lit businesses stood out brightly. Boisterous shouts, Latin music, and wild, unrestrained laughter spilled out into the street to combine with the rasping voices of the street vendors.

  The sensory assault of diesel fuel, cigarette smoke and freshly baked bread simmered in the warm night air.

  Casey eyed several scantily clad women beckoning to the passing motorists. “Isn’t this the red-light district?”

  “It is,” Detja confirmed.

  I gave the stink eye to a man making obscene humping gestures. “And we’re here why?”

  “Rosita’s.” She pointed to a tiny café with a tin roof and a crude window cut into the crumbling adobe wall. A faded picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe hung next to a weather-beaten sign proclaiming Rosita’s Cafe. Four battered picnic tables were crammed onto the narrow patio. “Her green corn tamales are the best in the city.”

  Casey looked around worriedly. “Won’t Zarek’s security detail follow us?”

  “I have engaged my cloaking device. They are now unable to track us.”

  Casey’s eyes lit up. “You have one of the miniature cloaking devices? I’ve been wanting one like forever.”

  “Where can I buy one?” Hoo boy. The things I could do with a cloaking device.

  Detja gestured at her warrior’s bracelet. “This is a prototype. Only Zarek, Voss and I have one.”

  Rats. My stomach growled loudly.

  Detja laughed. “Food first, then dancing or we can see a show?”

  “Villa Pueblo resort has the Baile Folkloric. I got us tickets for our night out on the town, but that kinda went south,” Casey grumbled.

  I made a sound of disgust. “Along with our vacation and romance under the stars. But, hey, their loss. You’ll love the Baile Folkloric Detja. It’s a traditional Mexican folk dance.”

  “Dinner, then the Baile Folkloric show,” Detja agreed.

  We trooped over to the order window. An elderly Hispanic woman smiled at us. “Bueno noche.”

  “Bueno noche Rosita. Tres Verde chili maize tamales cenas, por favor,” Detja said.

  “Does she have beer too?” My throat was drier than the Sahara.

  Detja nodded and held up three fingers. “Cervezas, por favor.”

  “Si. Twenty pesos, senora.”

  Holding out her arm, Detja allowed Rosita to scan her bracelet.

  “Gracias, senora.”

  The minute we sat down at a faded red picnic table a skinny street vendor hurried over to us. “Buy necklace, senoritas? Give you muy bueno price.”

  One look from Detja sent him scurrying back to his stall.

  “Uh. I’ve heard so many stories about you and Zarek. Could I talk you into answering some questions?” I made a face. “Or is my curiosity crass and insensitive?”

  Casey added quickly, “I’ve always wanted to know how you met too.”

  A reminiscent smile played over Detja’s lips. “It is quite a tale. I was once a master thief known as The Ghost. With my unique psychic talents and the devices my father purchased for me, I could steal anything, from anyone. I used computer generated illusions to deflect attention away from the theft and when things went badly, like they sometimes do; my acting ability helped me blend into any situation or culture. I was the best of the best.”

  “Were you ever arrested?” Casey asked eagerly.

  “The enforcers never came close to catching The Ghost and that made me a bit reckless.” Detja cocked her head. “No, foolish would be a better word. I was elated when I discovered Zarek, the most feared warlord in the galaxy, had seized a Ditrim crystal the size of my fist. At last, I had a worthy foe. It would be the greatest challenge of my career to take the crystal from him.”

  Whoa! She had wanted to go mano y mano with the Overlord? “I’m surprised Adan didn’t try to talk you out of stealing it.”

  “It was worth a hundred million credits. Father wanted it as much as I did.”

  “I bet Zarek never thought anyone would have the balls to steal from him,” Casey crowed.

  A gleeful smile curved Detja’s mouth. “My illusions worked perfectly, and I simply walked by his warriors. Bypassing his security systems was almost too easy, but his safe was a different matter. It took me longer than I had anticipated to breach it.”

  “Oh, my God!” Casey gasped. “Zarek caught you in the act?”

  “Almost. Zarek appeared as I was leaving on my air-bike. The crystal radiates a tremendous amount of energy and he sensed it. I’ll never forget the expression on his face when I gave him the one-finger salute. Primal rage with a touch of hot lust and amusement.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. And I thought I was crazy. “Hoo boy. I’m surprised he didn’t shoot you.”

  “It was an incredibly stupid stunt that roused the predator in Zarek. Once a Coletti warlord catches your scent, he never stops hunting you.”

  “But you got away. Right?” Casey interjected.

  Detja released a gurgle of laughter. “My capers were always carefully planned out. To ensure Zarek didn’t follow me, I set off explosive devices and damaged his warbird’s warp drive.”

  My eyebrows shot up in amazement. “How are you still breathing?”

  “At the time, I thought it was hilarious and that the big, bad warlord would never find me.”

  “But he did find you,” Casey stated.

  “Once he had his ship repaired, he pursued me. It took him six months to track me to the Sharqi Pleasure Palace.”

  I gaped at her. “You were working in a pleasure palace?”

  “It is not what you think. I took a job as a dancer to steal back a medallion a vile male had stolen from a dear friend.”

  Casey chuckled. “Out of all the pleasure palaces in the galaxy, he had to walk into yours.”

  “Exactly. You could say I was a bit horrified. In a crazy attempt to avoid capture, I danced over to a table of drunken Askole warriors and gave the biggest, deadliest looking one an erotic psychic push.”

  “You didn’t? Askole warriors are already horny as hell,” I declared in awe of Detja’s chutzpah.

  “I did. I crawled onto the warrior’s lap and reluctantly began licking his black armored plated skin.”

  Casey grimaced. “Ewww. Gross.”

  “Exactly. He tasted like dead things. I thought I was never, ever going to get the taste out of my mouth. Ugh,” Detja said with a shudder.

  Could I be that gutsy? Not a chance. “Bet Zarek didn’t like that.”

  “It made him even angrier. It was not like I had a death wish, nor was I suicidal. It was a move of sheer desperation. If Zarek wanted me, he was going to have to fight the Askole for me. I hoped during the ensuing carnage, I would be able to escape.”

  “Great plan,” Casey commented. “Did it work?”

  “Very well. Zarek demanded Sariel release me immediately. That I was his female.”

  “Wait!” I held up my hand. “Sariel? The Askole High Commander was the dude you were licking on?”

  “He was.”

  Casey hopped up and down on the bench. “Oh, my God. This is the best story ever.”

  “It sure is. Please continue.”

  “Sariel’s answer was, ‘Think you can take her from me?’ and the battle was on. It was pure pandemonium. Everyone ran screaming for the exits. Chairs, tables and bodies flew in every direction,” Detja said.

  I laughed. “God, I would have loved to have seen that.”

  “Me too,” Casey agreed.”

  I noticed a flash of sadness in Detja’s eyes and asked, “How did Zarek finally catch you?”

  “Father sold me to him,” Detja answered.

  My jaw dropped. “What! Why?”

  “Every thousand years, Father must return to his home world to regenerate. If he does not, he will become a killing machine unlike anything this galaxy has ever seen.”

  I frowned. “That’s downright terrifying, but why was it necessary to sell you to Zarek?”

  “Father had to sever our mental bond until his regeneration was complete. He didn’t think my mind would survive the process.”

  “But if you were psychically linked to Zarek, Adan thought you would be okay?”

  “Yes, that’s when I discovered Father had sold me for one credit,” Detja’s voice held a thread of anger.

  A look of outraged shock on her face, Casey demanded, “How could he sell you for a credit?”

  “According to Zarek, Father felt he was being penalized enough by taking on a bad-tempered mate with homicidal tendencies.” Detja rubbed her chest. “His betrayal broke something inside me.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “I know exactly how you feel.” I hugged Detja. “Casey and I have your back and no matter what comes, we are here for you.”

  “Right on. Hell, or high water, or bossy warlords.”

  Detja gave us a mental hug. “You are sisters of my heart.”

  Two young waitresses placed our food and drinks on the table.

  I smiled as a third waitress plonked down some chips and salsa. “Gracias.”

  “De nada,” she responded.

  I grabbed my beer and held it up. “To friendship.”

  “To friendship,” Detja and Casey repeated, holding up their bottles.

  “The tamales smell great.” I dug in.

  Casey took a bite and groaned. “Oh, my God. They’re awesome.”

  “There is nothing better than good food and good friends,” Detja said.

  Silence fell as we ate. When our plates had been pretty much licked clean, I turned to Detja. “I’ve gotta know. How did you escape Zarek again?”

  Detja touched a silver ring on her right hand. “It was easy. I simply jabbed him in the neck with my tranquilizer ring.”

  “Smart and sneaky. I love it!” Casey hooted.

  I grabbed some chips. “You know and I know, that wouldn’t stop Zarek for long.”

  “There was not a doubt in my mind that Zarek would pursue me to the very gates of hell. So, I locked him in a crate and shipped him to an Alliance penal colony,” Detja said with a spark of devilry in her amber eyes.

  I blinked in disbelief. “Really?”

  “Really,” Detja assured me.

  “A very creative solution for getting rid of a persistent warlord.” Casey double dipped her chip in the salsa.

  “I thought it was too.” Detja wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Until he freed all the Coletti warriors imprisoned on the penal colony and sent Voss after me.”

  “Definitely a bummer,” Casey agreed, double dipping again.

  Before I could yell at her, my mind began to itch. “Incoming.”

  Detja’s gaze locked on twelve Legionnaires walking toward us. “Dessert will have to wait. Our entertainment has arrived.”

  “If we’re cloaked, how did they find us?” A big-ass knife magically appeared in Casey’s hand.

  “An excellent question.” Detja tapped on her warrior’s bracelet. “My cloaking device has been disabled.”

  I drew my dagger. “Who could pull that off?”

  “Our traitor would need a high-security clearance pass to get into Zarek’s war room and deactivate my device,” Detja answered thoughtfully.

  “You know, I bet those poor dears could use a stiff drink or two.” I pointed at the graffiti covered bar across the street. “Don’t you agree? I mean working for Lilkee has to be a real downer.”

  Casey laughed. “You evil woman, did you know that Tepito belongs to the Mexican mafia?”

  “With all that graffiti, I figured it was gang-owned. Plus, if they wanna a fight, let’s give them one.” I examined my nails. “Don’t know about you, but I don’t want to muck-up my manicure.”

  Casey admired her brightly painted fingernails. “Me either.”

  “Flan or fried ice cream for dessert?” Detja inquired as the Legionnaires suddenly turned as one and marched up to Tepito.

  Damn, I bet her mind control powers equaled Zarek’s. “Fried ice cream.”

  “Fried ice cream with chocolate sauce,” Casey said.

  Detja walked over to the order window.

  The Legionnaires broke into their acrobatic sword dance and shouted, “Ka nate whakatu. Tutu ngarahu. Ka nate whakatu. Tutu ngarahu. Waewae tama-nur-ra.”

  The prostitutes watched in open-mouth astonishment.

  Horns honked and a man yelled, “Vamonos! Hijo de puta! Vamonos!”

  A heavily-armed thug came out of the bar, watched them for a minute before going back inside.

  “Ka nate whakatu. Tutu ngarahu. Waewae,” the Legionnaires yelled, stomping their feet to some silent beat. They stopped abruptly and charged into Tepito.

  Gunfire erupted inside the bar.

  “How bullet proof is their armor?”

  “So-so. It’ll protect them for a minute or two,” Casey answered.

  A blood covered Legionnaire staggered out the door and fell face down on the sidewalk.

  “And another one bites the dust,” Casey sang.

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Why aren’t they using their laser pistols?”

  “Cause that’s against the rules.”

  “Stupid rules,” I responded.

  Zzzzzt! Zzzzzt! Zzzzzt! Zzzzzt! The front wall dissolved into zillions of red fireflies, revealing the interior of the bar. Shattered furniture and bodies littered the floor. The surviving Legionnaires and gang members battled it out.

  “Someone had a lick of common sense,” I quipped.

  “Nah. Lilkee only hires dumb, ball-less henchmen. My guess is he fired out of sheer panic.”

  The freaked-out Legionnaire began firing again. Zzzzzt! Zzzzzt! Zzzzzt! Zzzzzt! The side wall vanished in a spectacular fountain of embers. The roof creaked ominously, and pieces of plaster rained down on the combatants.

  I let out a low whistle. “If I was them, I’d run for it.”

  “Never gonna happen. Once they engage the enemy they can’t retreat.”

  Snap! Crack! Pop! The roof crashed down. Churning dust and debris rolled across the roadway.

  I coughed and waved a hand in front of my face. “Whoa!”

  “I’ll say.” Casey sneezed violently.

  A Legionnaire stumbled out of the cloud of smoky debris. His furious gaze settled on us.

  Casey and I waved all friendly-like.

  Roaring in fury, he charged toward us and was hit by a semi-truck.

  I winced. “That’s gotta hurt.”

  The driver bailed out of the truck, took one look at the squashed Legionnaire and took off down the street.

  “Must have an arrest warrant,” I commented.

  Casey munched on a chip. “Or no insurance.”

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  A street light in front of the bar flickered. Pop! Pop! Snap! Whips of electricity crackled wildly around the pole, spitting sparks in every direction.

  “That can’t be good,” Casey commented.

  Snap! Crack! Boom! The street plunged into darkness. The music died and people poured out onto the sidewalks.

  Detja put a tray loaded with our fried ice cream on the table. “Eat fast. They are coming.”

  “Who?”

  “Our males,” Detja replied.

  “Oh.” I made a rude noise. “Them. I thought they had to save the universe.”

  “They have delegated the investigation to Voss.” Detja spooned some ice cream into her mouth.

  I stabbed my fried ice cream. “Why didn’t they do that earlier?”

  “Testosterone,” Casey answered.

  A fire truck and three police cars squealed to a stop in front of the demolished bar. Six firemen jumped off the truck. The red and blue emergency lights strobed over the darkened businesses, giving us fleeting glimpses of their frantic search for survivors in the wreckage.

  Zarek, Hothar and Saul appeared on the sidewalk in full battle armor. They surveyed the carnage and turned to glare at us.

  I ate my ice cream and ignored them.

 

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