Breaking Chance Read online

  What a girl wants and what a girl needs are sometimes two different things…

  For Melissa “Lucky” Chance, another stretch in Ganymede’s ice prison is nothing new. The flash-freeze that’s supposed to destroy her will only leaves her with an insatiable desire for the first hot body she lays eyes on. Except this time, she faces a death sentence. Her only hope of escape lies with the man known as The Butcher.

  John Ramius understands the logic behind his conviction as a criminally insane mass murderer. No man should have been able to slaughter over fifty men in as many minutes, but no one sees the underlying curse that compels him to sense—and fulfill—someone’s deepest need. Chance’s skill will free him to kill the Sun-King; he will find no rest until he does.

  As they run from the forces of the Jovian colonies, Ramius finds himself temporarily sidetracked, not only by Chance’s relentless desire, but by her underlying, unspoken need. Ignoring it—or his own compulsion to do every wicked thing imaginable to her—is not an option.

  Only after all their defenses are stripped away do they discover that their meeting wasn’t by chance. Someone is manipulating them both, and the only way out is the path to their

  Warning: This book contains explicit sex, thieves, murderers, a sentient ship and a hero who will give you exactly what you need. Not responsible for reader’s sudden compulsion to jump significant other’s bones.

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Breaking Chance

  Copyright © 2010 by Kim Knox

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-936-6

  Edited by Linda Ingmanson

  Cover by Kanaxa

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2010

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Breaking Chance

  Kim Knox

  Dedication

  For Jessica, who chased the sun with us.

  Chapter One

  The metal edge of the cuffs rubbed raw against her wrists. Chance winced and rolled her shoulders, wanting to ease its bite as the bonds pinned her arms tight behind her back. She could flick the cuffs open, of course…but that would probably look bad. What with her being a prisoner about to be sentenced and all.

  She slowed her breathing and focused her attention on the proceedings. People packed the courtroom, bodies crushing onto benches and balconies. The stink of too many humans crowded into a small metal chamber filled her senses and the air burned in her lungs. The court had refused to pump in more oxygen or push the scrubbers to maximum.

  Yes, that supposedly restricted information flashed through one of the lower sublevels on the data stream. Someone would get a kicking for not securing that data behind more walls. Her gaze roamed over the hot, sweating faces of the colonists. Couldn’t have them realising that they meant as little to the authorities as she did.

  The stream fizzed through the air. The information network was almost a living thing, alive in every wall, every structure, offering support, knowledge…but it was also a beast that could wrap around the tech in a colonist’s head. The state buried the synthetic crystal in every newborn, and all Jovians were at the whim of the outer governor. No one had a choice. They had to obey.

  Except for the rare and lucky few. Chance almost laughed at that thought. The so lucky—and criminal—few like her.

  Those who couldn’t physically attend wired their implanted chips into the stream and experienced the courtroom vicariously through the smells, the sounds, the throb of excitement. Screens reflected the prisoners’ images in the curve of the ceiling, the rush of tech rubbing as hard against her skin as her metal cuffs.

  Chance stared up, finding the image of herself tucked at the front of the railed dock, a small, slender woman with short white-blonde hair and features that just slid out of a person’s memory. Well, that had been her main asset. She winced, hating the fact that so many people could see her face now that her image fed into the brains of nearly every Jovian colonist. As a thief, her success relied on her anonymity. Though, of course, they weren’t crowding the court to see her. Luck just had her in the wrong place at the wrong time. Again.

  No, people hung off the support structures for a glimpse of the Butcher.

  He stood no more than a metre from her in the fortified dock. Security shrouded him, by flesh in the form of two burly court officials, and by tech, the gleam of which stung her eyes. John Ramius, former security consultant for the illegal drilling and trading base on Sinope, one of Jupiter’s small outer moons. He’d slaughtered the Jovian troops sent in to take back the base for the old outer governor.

  News feeds had it that there would be a minute-by-minute breakdown of his fifty-three kills—Chance stopped herself from snorting—hence the crowd. And his looks probably had them feeding in too. Was a mass murderer supposed to be so sinfully attractive? Tall, lean, smooth-featured with a hardness to him that promised he would be a damn fine fuck—

  Chance crushed her eyes against that insane thought. Yes, only she would think about screwing the murdering psychopath. But then a pretty face had her standing in the dock in the first place as he—Ben? Bob? Her betrayer’s name escaped her—had traded her in for a meagre fifty credit reward. Chance couldn’t resist shinies—whether they were trinkets or a handsome face with a hard body.

  Other defendants shuffled behind her, pushing her forward as they tried to put as much distance as they could between themselves and Ramius. Twelve stood in the wide dock, set high above the court floor and level with the man who would decide their fate. The chancellor had certainly taken his sweet time getting to the detention base to pass judgement on them all. The new outer governor, Ishaan West, the self-styled Sun King, seemed more interested in plastering every government station with his face in a radiating sun disk than actually running the colonies. Chance almost rolled her eyes. She’d never spent so long in detention.

  She flexed her shoulders again, easing the tightness caused by the cuffs. She’d been locked in a metal box on the base for two months, the others standing with her serving a much longer time in remand, and yet more prisoners waited in the court’s holding cells. The chancellor had a lot to get through this day.

  Usually they liked to ship her off to the ice-prisons on Ganymede within days, dropping her into a pod and reconditioning her. It never worked. They couldn’t fix her and whatever she’d done to her implant. They thawed her and the overwhelming urge to screw the nearest hard, pretty body pushed her on the slippery slope to inevitable recapture. Chance tried not to look at Ramius again. And failed. He’d be…wicked.

  Her fingers stretched, and the fresh bite of the metal against her wrist broke her thoughts. She shifted her gaze from Ramius to the wizened old man hunched in his red leather chair. West’s ubiquitous sun symbol gilded the back of the chair, forming a false, gleaming halo. The chancellor’s black robes of office shone with wear, and his flowing, ceremonial wig hung heavy against his narrow shoulders. Dark eyes fixed on the prisoners, and Chance held down a shiver. As well as having a forgettable face and being savvy with tech, she could also read people.
Chancellor Joash Connor might look frail, but a demon lived in the man. Her stomach turned over. Her judgement would not go well.

  “John Ramius.” The chancellor’s voice boomed over the crowded court, and instant silence fell. Sitting forward, the old man narrowed his eyes, and his withered lips pursed. “You look human enough. From the rumours, I expected at least a fine pair of horns and a forked tail.”

  A brief ripple of nervous laughter ran around the long chamber, dropping to silence on the orders of court officials.

  Prisoners shuffled and Chance found herself pushed against the backside of one of Ramius’ guards. He turned to glare at her, muttering as he had to twist his head over his shoulder to see her. Chance twitched a smile and gave him a loose shrug, which caused his heavy face to frown.

  “I am here today to pass fair judgement on your actions,” the chancellor continued, his voice magnified against the smooth metal walls of the chamber. “You are charged with fifty-three counts of unlawful killing—”

  “Not unlawful. Justified.”

  Ramius growled the words under his breath. The hatred burning through his voice shot a shiver down Chance’s spine. One of his guards dug an elbow hard into his ribs, and the Butcher grunted. Ramius lifted his chin and focused on the chancellor. A muscle jumped in his jaw. Tension screamed off him, and she ached to be farther away, her body now only inches from his, the hot scald of the securing tech wrapped around him tearing at her skin.

  “—and with my first judgement of the day, I pass the sentence of death.” A dissatisfied murmur ran over the crowd and it took several calls to order before they grew quiet again. The chancellor banged his gavel through the unrest. “I am not here to entertain you. I am here as the will of the new outer governor.” The old man’s voice stretched thin with his anger. “This man is a murderer, a butcher—”

  “List my crimes!” Ramius’ voice echoed over the walls. “You can’t. Because what I did wasn’t a crime. I would kill every man over again. Every single one. What they did—”

  He doubled over at the hard fist to his gut, staggering, falling back against Chance. Instinct braced her, and she held him up with her shoulder. Ramius shot a glance at her, and surprise flickered there before a dark shadow dropped over his green eyes. He straightened.

  “Your outburst only confirms my words. If the colonies of Jupiter are to have order, then you and others like you must feel the full force of the law.”

  He paused and straightened in his chair. The leather squeaked. Chance’s stomach turned. No Ganymede ice-pod for her. The chancellor was out to make an example of them all. The other prisoners stilled behind her. Yes, they’d realised every one of them would face the airlock that day. Shit.

  “John Ramius, you will be taken from this chamber to the main external airlock. From there, you will be spaced whilst conscious.” That pulled a sharp breath from the crowd. Spacing him and not drugging him into unconsciousness first? The new outer governor wanted Ramius to suffer. “That is the final judgement of the chancellor of this court.”

  The ring of his gavel echoed around the metal chamber.

  Ramius, held in the meaty hands of his guards, shuffled down the gangway to the prisoner exit cut into the wall. The screens followed his departure and, as the metal of the doors closed behind him, the wild rush of tech faded from the chamber. The outsiders had seen the man they wanted. Chance blew out a slow breath, the tech-wrought needles under her skin pulling back as they left.

  “Next prisoner. Melissa Chance, also known as Lucky Chance.” The official’s voice rose over the shuffle of people as they stood up, left their cramped benches and headed for the exit.

  The chancellor’s gavel thudded into its sound block. “Order! Officers of the court, bar the doors. You gathered for a trial, so you will sit it through it all.” Mutterings eased into silence, and Chance found the old man’s eyes fixed on her. All ease vanished. “Lucky Chance.” He sneered and sat back in his creaking chair. “From your long record, that has to be a misnomer.”

  “Irony is a wonderful thing, Your Honour.”

  Snickers rippled over the crowd and the chancellor’s mouth thinned. “You think this funny?” He held up a clear sheet and his eyes narrowed on it. Her criminal record made for interesting reading. Young as she was—twenty-eight—she’d had a long and varied career. “Your record is astonishing.” His dark eyes fixed on her. “Theft and lascivious acts lay thick on your soul.”

  Lascivious acts? That was a new one. Too many times, she’d been caught by the authorities half-naked up against a wall. It was her weakness: the promise of a hard, fast fuck with a man who was easy on the eye. “My flesh is weak, Your Honour.”

  A frown formed a hard line between his eyes. “You have plagued the Jovian colonies for thirteen years.” His head tilted, his wig shifting. Chance bit down on a smile. She shouldn’t find the situation funny, but the little black crow with the demon eyes and loose hair made her desperate to laugh. Nerves. It had to be nerves, because she knew what was coming.

  “As John Ramius’ fate was a sign that we will not tolerate the massacre of our troops, yours, Melissa Chance, will show that social order is just as important to the new outer governor.” He lifted his thin shoulders and his demon eyes gleamed. He enjoyed his power. “Therefore Lucky Chance, I pass the sentence of death upon you. You will be taken from this chamber to the main external airlock. From there, you will be spaced whilst conscious.”

  A hard smile pulled at his mouth as the crowd gave a collective gasp. Chance’s chest tightened. As predicted, they were all going to die horrible deaths that day. Ishaan West was out to make an example of them all and remove them from the law-abiding population. After all, the only way to disable a dysfunctioning implant was to kill the owner.

  The chancellor sank back into his chair, the gold from the sun-disc curving around his shoulders and head. His mouth twitched. “That is the final judgement of the chancellor of this court. Prisoner, leave the dock.”

  The doors opened at the far end of the gangway, and Chance shuffled forward. Her tight prison suit would sting her into action at any delay, and she’d had burning needles lancing into her skin one too many times before to want it again.

  “Next prisoner. Martine Callis.”

  The metal clunked shut behind her. Hard hands closed around her arms, and she found herself almost lifted onto a transport. Security film flashed over her, pinning her head to toe in her bucket seat. The door dropped over the frame of the transport and sank her into sudden gloom. The interior stank of cheap fabric, sweat and fear…but undercutting those scents was another. Chance pulled it into her lungs. A rich scent, laced with spice. Her gaze slid to her right in the dark cabin and found John Ramius staring back at her. Shallow, overhead light cut across his smooth features.

  She gave him a sharp smile, hiding her nerves. “Chancellor Joash Connor. No one escapes a spacing.” With a quick twist, Chance freed her hands from the cuffs. What was the point of her sitting with her hands trussed behind her back? She wasn’t going anywhere now. She eased them over her hips and settled her hands between her thighs. There was enough room under the film for her to rub at the soreness of her wrists.

  Ramius fixed his gaze on her fingers. “Get handcuffed a lot?”

  “Occupational hazard.” She couldn’t stop the curve of another smile, her sense of humour easing the tight knot of terror cramping her gut. “And of course, I do it for fun too.”

  Ramius snorted. His breathing deepened before he spoke, his voice quiet but bitter. “He’ll space everyone.”

  She shrugged and winced as the film stung the edge of her shoulders. “He’s out to make an example today. Even of a lowly thief like me.”

  “The feeds must be immense, all wanting to see me go down. The new outer governor needs to show everyone who’s in charge.”

  “Ishaan West has a captive audience. You’re infamous.”

  “And you don’t seem to be concerned by that.”

&n
bsp; Something in his voice edged under her skin, almost as sharp as the spikes in her prison suit. She sat next to a man who had butchered fifty-three men in almost as many minutes. Soon hard vacuum would tear her apart, and she would die in agony. Her fear of him was pointless. “We’re both going to die horrible deaths very soon.”

  “I may want a final kill to satisfy my blood lust.”

  Chance held his darkened gaze while her heart thudded. The edge to his voice dried her mouth, and she swallowed. “You’re trapped under security film.”

  A smile curved his mouth, and the predatory gleam in his eyes had her terrified and so wet she had to squeeze her thighs together. Hard. That didn’t help. The pulse of sudden, unexpected arousal lay thick and hot in her belly. She was insane, she really was.

  “I’ll do you a deal, Chance. You bring down this security film and I’ll get us out of here. Get us off the detention base and I’ll pay you.”

  “Pay me?”

  “Do you want the assurance that I wouldn’t kill you?” His smile was hard. “You have that too.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You’re a colony thief. More than anything, you have to be tech savvy. Rupture the film. If we get another prisoner in here, the odds of our escaping drop.” His gaze narrowed on her. “Do you want to die a horrible death?”

  “At whose hands?”

  “Chance…”

  He growled her name, and her flesh clenched. Yes, only she could want sex right then. “Fine.” She closed her eyes. Every citizen of the Jupiter colonies had an implanted chip. On some, like her and—obviously—Ramius, the restrictor didn’t take, and, with a little ingenuity, they were practically free to do whatever they liked. Until they were caught. And they were always caught. She’d turned her talent to controlling her environment. And she was bloody good at it. With a faint hum, the security film powered down.