My stomach rumbles, and the thought of last night’s Aloyishan rum makes me want to throw up. If only I’d eaten a full breakfast to soak it up.
With effort, I concentrate on my uncle’s words.
“Did you perform the kill in your animal form?” he asks.
“What? Oh, uh, yeah.” Yeah, why not. I’ll let them think my lion tore her to pieces. That’s about as logical as anything else right now.
“Good. Make sure there is no trace of human blood on your fur. Return to the Imperial Order vessel by moonset, please.”
“Got it.”
He hangs up at this point, so I do the same.
Corby Frayne leans forward, flicks her hair back, and stands up straight again. I shake my head disapprovingly. “Terrorist? Really?”
“Who, me?”
“Who else? My uncle Mirodag assures me you’re a danger to us all.”
“Mirodag? Prince Mirodag? Ha.” She laughs mirthlessly. “He’s just saying that because I have some really bad stuff on him. Him in particular.” She folds her arms. “Your uncle’s an asshole. Sorry, but it’s true.”
I shrug. It sounds credible. “Let’s get back to the point. Where’s the chip?”
She pulls her wild mop of hair off her shoulders and twists it into a crazy-looking knot on top of her head. “Why did you protect me?”
I open my mouth to respond, but I’m not sure I even know the answer myself.
Why did I lie to my uncle for her? I don’t approve of pointless killings, but saving her has put me in the firing line. Lying to the Imperial Order is as bad as betrayal. They won’t kill me for it, but they could make my life a misery.
It would have been a lot easier just to walk away from the whole thing, like Uncle Mirodag said.
If I didn’t want to kill her myself - and I sure didn’t want to do that - then why didn’t I go back to my own life and let the system deal with her? Or just go straight to the top and issue a royal pardon? Why am I involved like this?
“I’m not sure,” I say at last, truthfully. “There was just no way in hell I was going to kill you for a bunch of traffic violations. And there was no way I could allow you to be killed for a crime that doesn’t even make sense to me. That’s all.”
There’s a kind of battle-worn yearning in her eyes that makes me long to reach out to her. But I don’t. She’d probably try to shoot me and take over the ship, if I did.
“So where are you taking me now?” she says, chewing her lip again. She directs her eyes away from me.
“Tell me where the chip is, and I’ll tell you where I’m taking you.”
I punch in some coordinates with my back to her, so she can’t see where we’re headed. She makes another of her irritated exclamation noises, and then sighs melodramatically.
“Okay. All right. I’ll tell you.” She indicates herself, with her thumb. “The chip is here.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere on me. That’s enough information.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Well, I’m not going to be.”
“Do I have to check over every inch of you to find it?”
The awkward pause that follows crackles with tension. My cock twitches as I imagine conducting a fingertip search.
“Not necessary,” she murmurs. There’s a long silence, and neither of us moves. Then she makes an exasperated noise. “Oh, to hell with it. Okay. It’s in here.”
She sits on the co-pilot seat and rests a boot on the other knee. Touching the side of the thick sole, she locates whatever invisible thing she’s looking for.
Then she taps it three times. A little tray opens, holding a chip.
“It’s here. The chip that could burn your whole world to the ground.” She takes out the chip and holds it up. “It’s here.”
7 Corby
He looks genuinely astonished. “How did you get that past the scanners?”
I palm the chip and pat my boot. “Undetectable, unscannable. The coating of this little compartment is made of a super advanced impregnable material. It was developed on Freeoth in secret. The inventor gave the blueprint to the resistance.”
“The Resistance?”
“The people who oppose your family’s rule.” Prince Jalton looks at me blankly. “You do understand that a resistance organization exists, right?”
Prince Jalton nods vaguely, but it looks like his mind is blown. How could he not know about the Resistance?
“Why are you telling me this?” he asks.
“Because I know you risked a lot to save my life. And you didn’t have to do that. And honestly, I’m still not sure why you did do it. But I owe you something, and knowledge is all I have to give you.” I sigh. “No, okay, that’s crap. I told you because you’ll just rip me limb from limb to find it anyway, or kill me and use my bones as chopsticks, or whatever you Imperial Order maniacs do. At least this way, I have a chance of not ending up as lion food.”
His eyes glaze over and he frowns slightly, like he’s thinking all this through. “So why didn’t the guy on Freeoth tell everyone about his unscannable material invention, and license it? He’d make a fortune.”
“I guess because she felt the Resistance was a more important cause than money, and she sacrificed potential riches to help. I expect that kind of decision-making seems totally incomprehensible to a royal like you.” I can’t resist one last jab. “Just like the idea that a shit-hot inventor could be female.”
“Ah. The inventor’s female. I get it.” He has the decency to smile at his own error. “Okay. Sorry.”
“So are you going to kill me now?”
He pats his rock-hard abs. “I can’t concentrate on life-and-death questions while my stomach’s growling at me. Are you hungry, Corby Frayne?”
I’m super suspicious, but also starving. “Kind of.”
“Great. I’ll check the food stores.” He lays his hands on the command panel and stands up. “You know, this is not how I imagined today would go when I awoke.”
“No? What did you have planned for your royal day, Your Highness?” I don’t even bother to hide the snark in my voice. He smiles wryly, and he looks even more handsome than he did already.
“This was supposed to be my punishment. I lost a bet, and a card game. And now here we are. I’m in space with a terrorist thief, battling the hangover from hell, with my corrupt uncle on my ass. Or at least that’s what you tell me he is.” He surveys the walls, and throws up his hands in disbelief. “Where the hell did they put the food storage compartments on this vehicle?
“Well, you’re not stuck with me.” I lift my chin defiantly. “You can call into the Imperial Order ship and get my little vehicle sent to meet me on whatever the nearest planet is. And then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I can’t do that.”
My fingers beat out a nervous rhythm on my thighs. “You know you can.”
“You know I can’t. You’ll be executed instantly if the enforcers find you. The head honcho issued an order. The warrant will be valid intergalactically.”
I swallow, feeling suddenly lost. I fight the urge to ask the big guy to hold me.
“Then what are you going to do?” I half-whisper.
“That’s a good question.”
“I know. Answer it.”
“I’m going to eat. And so are you.”
“Please. What are you going to do with me?”
He stops patting the walls and stands tall in front of me, with his hands behind his back. “The obvious thing to do would be to complete the kill. Or take you to some gun-for-hire who’ll do the job without tainting my royal hands. My uncle would say those are the only possible choices.”
I feel my knees wobble. They’re going to buckle underneath me if I’m not careful.
We look at each other for a while. I can’t read him at all. His face is open, and his eyes seem honest and decent, but… he’s still a part of the Imperial Order, for crying out loud. How much can a
person ever really know about these pedigree wackjobs?
Finally, I speak. “So what’s the plan, Your Highness?”
“I’m going to take you someplace where you can go into hiding. You, and your controversial chip.”
I’m floored. “Why… why would you do that?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“I…” I look away, then back at him. Emotion overwhelms me, like a tidal wave. “I don’t even know you. How do I know I can trust you?”
Stepping forward, he takes my face in his hands. I blink away a stray tear.
“You’re right,” he says. “You don’t know me, Commander Frayne. You don’t know anything about me. Apparently you don’t know much about the royal family at all. And I know nothing of you.” He looks at my lips, while still holding my face. I’m breathing too fast. Then he meets my eye again. “I’m everything you despise, and… well, you shouldn’t even be a blip on my radar. But here we are.”
I close my eyes, just letting his firm touch strengthen me. I shouldn’t let an Imperial Order bastard touch me, not even a sexy one.
But it’s been so long since anyone held me. With no family and no friends left alive, life is a constant struggle.
This guy may be full of shit, but right now, right in this moment, he’s all I have.
“How?” I whisper. My voice is scratchy. “How am I going to make it if I’m in hiding? How do I survive if I can’t go to work?”
He looks me deep in the eyes, and strokes a lock of hair off my forehead. For just a second, it feels like he might kiss me. But of course he doesn’t. I feel stupid for thinking it.
Does he mean what he says? Is an Imperial Order royal family member really capable of taking me out of this nightmare? How will I know if he’s sincere, or just stringing me along so he can get me killed later instead?
“You’re just going to have to trust me,” he says again.
“How can I?” I whisper.
“What choice do you have?”
He’s right. It’s either put my fate in the hands of this mysterious prince, or give myself up.
“Then fine. Take me away from all this, Your Highness,” I sigh, closing my eyes again. “I’m all yours.”
For a while, we fly in silence. Prince Jalton makes himself busy dealing with the flight controls. I stare at the navigation screens, trying to keep my stress levels in check.
I can believe he was ordered to kill me. The whole organization is psychopathic. Besides, they won’t let me get away with treason. If they know I have the chip, execution is the least they’re going to do with me.
What I can’t believe is that Prince freaking Jalton is going to defy the order and save me. I mean, what's his motivation? Why would he help me? Surely he’ll make his own life too complicated by doing that? It'd be so much simpler for him to pass me on to someone lower down the scale, who can finish me off, just the way they want.
I shudder to think of it. Whatever his crazy fucked up reason for helping me stay alive, I'm grateful.
It’s scary that he knows where the chip is now though. I had no choice, but I wish I hadn’t had to tell him. Sure, he's being nice now. But can he really keep the information to himself once all this is over?
He's Imperial Order. The ties run deep. Whatever he says now, sooner or later he’s bound to want to know who's betraying his family. And he'll need to keep a lid on the scandal that'll happen if any of it becomes public knowledge. Royals don’t just help Wildcats out of the goodness of their hearts. Their hearts are a goodness-free zone, for a start.
"We still need to find the food stores,” he says, breaking my train of thought. His beautiful sculpted face is solemn. “All this talk is making me even hungrier.”
"Oh. Yeah, right." Guess the subject is officially changed. I was running out of energy to deal with it anyway.
I look around the space. What kind of food is stored in here? Maybe it'll be old school freeze dried rations. Maybe it'll be top quality Imperial Order-worthy fine cuisine. Only one way to find out. I don't realize how ravenous I am until my stomach lets out an anguished rumble.
"You too, huh?" he says, with a smile. “Now where did the ship’s engineers intend hide it all?”
There's a shallow recess in one wall panel, pretty low down. Not expecting much, I pat it tentatively. To my surprise, a square door opens.
“Well, whaddya know?” Prince Jalton looks delighted. “Nice job, Commander.”
I curtsy, like a goof. We kneel down in front of the open door and I pull out a tray filled with silver boxes, marked with unfamiliar symbols. Below that shelf is what looks like a thick glass cube. I don't recognize the technology, so I just look at Prince Jalton.
"That's for heating the food,” he says. "Wait a second, I'll take a look." He comes over and peers at it. "I never used one of these myself on a flight before. We always have..." He breaks off.
"You always have servants to do that stuff, you mean?"
He shrugs. "Well, yeah. Busted. But look, it can't be too difficult. Some of these vehicles are only meant for a couple of people to fly in. Those guys must be doing their own catering." He says something in a language I don't recognize and the front of the glass cube opens. "There you go." He studies the silver boxes and selects two. Then he slides them into the cube. A few more strange words, and the cube closes itself.
"Wow," I say. But before I can even ask him about the symbols or the language, the cube opens again. The scent of delicious food wafts out. My mouth waters, and my stomach practically flips over with eagerness.
"Dinner is served," he says, taking out the boxes.
"What is it?" I ask, even though it doesn't matter. It smells so damn incredible, I'm going to eat it even if it’s something gross. Like snake eyes, or moldy bugs. Anything.
He tells me the names of the dishes in that same weird language, so I'm no wiser.
"Okay," I say. "Whatever it is, I'm down for that."
Prince Jalton ushers me to what looks like a kind of breakfast bar, with pullout seats I never noticed before. We sit down next to one another. The silver food boxes flip open to reveal compartments full of what looks like the best Italian-Asian fusion food ever, and I groan as the aroma hits my nose. It’s the best food I’ve ever smelled in my life. There's a fork-like utensil tucked into the edge, and I copy Prince Jalton when he slides his out.
"You don't have one of these on your ship?" Prince Jalton says, gesturing to the panel now hiding the glass cube thing again.
"Nope. I don't even have a microwave."
He frowns, as though he doesn't know that word. "What do you eat?"
"I eat cold packaged crap. Or freeze-dried powder meals I, uh, borrow from clients’ ships. Or I stop on a friendly planet and try to sweet talk someone into buying me dinner. Or I beg for leftovers at the Wildcat canteen.”
He laughs. "What an interesting life you have, Commander Frayne."
“That’s one way of putting it.”
It's sort of cute when he calls me by my full title. And speaking of cute… I’m trying hard not to look at him that way, but damn. Damn. Even shoveling alien cuisine into his mouth, the man looks like a male runway model. It’s unreal.
Bad idea to let myself think like that, since he's a prince and I'm probably lower down the pecking order than his shoeshine boy, but… yeah. He is hot as hell. My body just keeps on responding to his presence, whether I like it or not.
We eat in companionable silence. Occasionally I break it with an "ooh", or an "oh boy, this is good", but mostly I’m just trying not to think about my predicament. The food is a great distraction.
It's been a while since I ate so well. The taste lives up to the incredible aroma. I can’t believe convenience meals intended to be eaten in the sky could be so delicious.
“Hey, why were you so hungry?" I ask, when I have just a couple of forkfuls left. "Didn't you eat a twelve-course breakfast this morning, back at the palace? Served by nubile handmaidens,
on golden plates?" He looks up at me and I wink. “Just a normal morning at your place, right?”
"Not quite,” he says, raising a single eyebrow. "Let's just say I had to be forced awake, and I skipped breakfast.”
I don't ask why he didn't want to get out of bed. Probably had a woman in there. For some reason, this makes me feel prickly and irritable.
He clears away our plates and tips everything into a recycle chute, which appears as if by magic out of the tabletop.
"I want to know more about you," he says, all of a sudden. The intensity of his amber gaze hypnotizes me. I’m floating in the clear pools of his eyes, for just a moment.
I snap out of it. “What, are we friends now? Come on.” He looks mildly offended, so I hurriedly add “There's nothing to tell. Tell me all about you."
"Oh, I've had a very boring privileged existence."
“Privileged is not boring to me. That's exotic."
"Exotic?" He laughs, a real belly laugh that makes me grin too. I can't help myself.
"Of course it is. I grew up in a poor Earth family. We didn't live like you do. I'd love to know more about it." I feel my cheeks warming as he gazes at me, so I look down at the marbled floor panels.
“Do you see your family much?”
I swallow. “They’re not around any more.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t kill them.” I bite my lip to hold back my feelings. “Your family’s space army did that.”
His smile drops and he looks mortified. “I am so sorry. So very sorry.” He takes my hand and holds it. He’s warm, and his big hand almost swallows mine up.
I feel kind of awkward about how much I’m enjoying holding hands with him, so I don’t meet his eye. I don’t want to think about my family either.
“Tell me about you,” I repeat.
"Okay." He does something to the flight desk control panel with his other hand, which I assume means engaging it in autopilot. “Where do I even begin?" Turning back around, he folds his free arm and leans against the edge of the desk. He doesn’t drop my hand.
A Shift in the Sky_In the Stars Romance Page 5
