Shaking his head to clear it, he tried to get Keris’s disdainful voice out of his mind. There was still enough of the poison in his system that it was playing havoc with his senses.

And he was mad as hell at himself about that. He should have known to check for poison after he’d been stabbed. It was a common practice for the Partinie to taint their blades. Bastards were callous that way.

Andarions viewed such tactics as cheating and cowardly, which was why he hadn’t thought about it. If you weren’t strong enough to kill with your hands or standard weapons, then you should perish with honor. That was how his people lived and died.

But Partinie, for all their knife skills, were basic cowards. They wanted easy kills they didn’t have to work for.

Hauk opened his shirt to check his throbbing side. The blisters where he’d cauterized the front wound had opened and were festering from his sweat. Curling his lip at the sight, he tore open an antiseptic pack to clean it.

Something rustled to the north of his position.

He dropped his hand to the blaster he’d confiscated from one of the assassins. A Rit weapon, it had a larger blast radius than anything except his modified Andarion PX8s. Damn, he missed his blasters. A gift from Darling years ago, they were his most cherished belongings. He’d even named them. The fact he let Thia and Sumi take them said it all about his feelings toward the females.

He’d never had those weapons out of his hands before. Death had come quickly to anyone dumb enough to try to take them from him.

Cocking his head, he listened. Someone was crawling on the ground not that far away.

Hauk rose to his feet and lowered his head to scan the area around him. Then he heard it. The distant whine of an airbee engine. Lightweight airbikes, they were the choice for this terrain.

Walking slowly, he headed for a small copse of desert trees to use for cover while he mentally ran through all the weapons he’d kept. For once, he wished he’d taken explosives training from Darling. His friend had begged him countless times to do it. But after what had happened with Keris, Hauk had no use for anything that could blow up in his face and rain debris down around him. All he knew how to do was build the switches and timers. He’d never wanted anything to do with the explosive minerals or compounds themselves.

But that was okay.

He could kill well enough without it. At least that was the thought until he heard more engines approaching.

And more.

Shit. Were they planning a festival? The annual Hunt Hauk’s Head Event? Exactly how many were coming to this little soiree? It sounded like an army mobilizing. Who the hell hates me this much?