She gave him her look of mock-innocence, picked up his mug, and drained the contents. “But I did want to talk about Tempus,” she replied. “At least about a proposal Tempus suggested to me.”
She crooked a finger, beckoning him close again. “Your Riddler wants me to seize control of your PFLS. He thinks I can shape it into an adequate defense force to replace his Stepsons and the 3rd Commando when he leads them out of Sanctuary.”
A hint of red colored Zip’s cheeks. He straightened, took a step away from her.
“You play dangerous games, Rankan.” His eyes glinted. “So you’ll just take over?
You think it’s that easy?” He chuckled at her.
She threw a fist at his face. Zip raised an arm to block it. But her move was only a feint. Chenaya caught his rising arm at the elbow, tugged, and kicked his foot when he tried to catch his balance. Zip fell heavily, stunned. She straddled him, sat on his chest, and brought one of her boot daggers to rest at his throat.
Then, she smiled at Zip, and suddenly her lips crushed down on his. There was power in her kiss; it didn’t surprise her at all when he began to return it. She sat up, wiped her mouth, grinning.
“Just that easy. Zip, my love,” she told him. “And Tempus knows it. That’s why he approached me.” She tangled her hand through his hair and kissed him again.
When she sat up, the point of her blade flashed downward to bite deeply into the boards near Zip’s ear. She left it quivering there while she loosened the laces at the neck of his dirty tunic. “But I’m not interested in running your little social club,” she whispered, “and what Tempus wants is unimportant.” She dragged her nails teasingly over the exposed portion of his chest. “However, I have some proposals of my own. Would you like to hear them?”