by Eva Delaney
“We’re together now,” Orion said and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“We were the first time, too. It didn’t make any difference.”
Orion was silent for a long moment. I worried he’d pull away, leaving me without this scrap of warm comfort.
“We were outnumbered. It wasn’t your fault or mine or anyone’s,” he said.
I snorted and turned my face away from him. He didn’t pull away. His breath was warm on the back of my head like in the compartment. He breathed deep of my scent. I flushed, remembering what happened the last time.
I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “We were always outnumbered. We never lost like that before. Now…” We might lose worse than before. My decision to come to Vinera might get us captured or killed. Today might be my greatest failure.
I didn’t have to say it. Orion knew as well as I did. He was at Sule. He saw hope crash from the sky.
“After this, we’ll start over,” he said. The hope in his voice stabbed through me. “We’ll take a trip, just you and me.”
“Like the time we delivered those fighter ships,” I said.
Orion tensed suddenly, every muscle going rigid.
“We agreed to it so we could be alone together for a little while,” I said.
He relaxed against me, the tension fading away.
“The only time we had total privacy after years of sleeping in barracks and tents,” he said and chuckled. “It was the best time of my life.”
I rolled my eyes though he couldn’t see it. If he enjoyed it so much, he wouldn’t have left. I wiggled away from him, and he reluctantly let me go.
“I’d give everything to keep you safe,” he said softly as though admitting a secret. “I did then, and I will now, no matter what happens, no matter what that bastard does.”
His words opened a sore ache in my chest. Yeah he’d do anything, except stay.
Rux’s voice cut through the dark, so sudden that I started. “We should be fighting. Instead we’re waiting while this scum and the treacherous Commander lead us into a trap.”
Fuck off, I thought as I pushed along the wall toward the cabin door. “If you question my integrity one more time, you’ll follow Castor out the airlock,” I shouted.
Antares cleared his throat somewhere in the corridor to my left. “I need to clear something up.”
“Why you know Castor? Why you betrayed the Supremacy? Are you going to tell us why exactly we’re here before we’re blown to dust by a spoiled ass?” Orion said behind me.
“Why Cal and I left in the middle of the night.”
Twenty-Four
Antares was turning on me after I stood up for him, after we nearly kissed, and after he clearly wanted me. I wasn’t surprised. Love hadn’t been enough to keep anyone else loyal. He was selling me out to redirect the men’s anger toward me and save himself. There was nothing I could do to stop him. If I tried to shut him up, the others would know I was hiding something, and I would still be screwed.
“I want to destroy the Supremacy. It’s the only reason I’m here,” Antares said, cool and calm. “I held back intel so that I would have to go with you on this mission.”
I blinked. He hadn’t withheld info from the general, just from us. That meant he was lying still. And that lie was going to make the men hate him even more for supposedly withholding intel.
“But the general said I couldn’t bring Mr. Pancake,” he continued. “So, I tried to leave Star Keeper Base in the middle of the night to track Agent Winters myself. Leave you all floundering with incomplete info. Calpurnia stopped me. I said I’d join the mission if she helped me smuggle Mr. Pancake out.”
I gasped. Why was he covering for me?
“You put the rebellion at risk for a dog?” Rux said through clenched teeth.
“Not just any dog. A very good boy.”
“They’re all good boys,” Polaris murmured.
“You got the crew turning on Cali over a dog?” Orion said.
“Shhh,” I said. “I don’t need your protection.”
“You don’t need it, but you got it,” he snapped. “You always have.”
“Who’s a good boy?” Antares said in a singsong voice. I assumed he was talking to Mr. Pancake, but couldn’t tell in the dark. He could be talking to Orion, and I chuckled at the thought.
Hamal laughed. “You have to admit, Rion, the dog is a joy to have around.”
That was what I used to call him. It was what our last team called him. It felt strange to hear that intimacy from so long ago, like the past was leaking into the present.
“Can we keep the dog, but space the man?” Orion grumbled.
“You already said that,” Rux said.
“And I’ll keep saying it until he’s gone!”
I expected Antares to respond with a challenge in that cold voice. Instead he said, “Who wants a tummy rub?”
Orion made a sound of disgust. I laughed despite myself.
“Come on, man,” Hamal said in his deep, soothing voice. “There’s nothing wrong with caring for an animal friend. Let him be and help finish up the ice cream before it melts in this power outage.”
Orion mumbled something I couldn’t hear.
“Why is there ice cream?” Rux said, always the sour one. “And not an ice cream flavored ingredient pack?”
“Because I snuck it on board,” Hamal said.
“All these damn sneaks,” Rux muttered.
After that, they were quiet. But I was certain Rux and Orion were planning something against Antares. Neither of them would let this go.
Why did he put himself in greater risk for me?
I pushed myself along the wall to the cockpit and settled into the pilot’s seat. I meant to keep an eye on things, as much as possible without access to the scanners. According to Polaris’s calculations, we were three hours from the jumpgate.
With the ship dark, no scanners to eye, and nothing beyond the window to watch, my mind wandered. Usually, it summoned Celene, my sister, to play twenty questions and gossip about people long dead.
But not this time.
Instead, my mind drifted to Orion and Antares pressed against me. Their breaths short and excited against my neck. Their heat seeping into my body like a hot bath.
The worst thing was that I remembered both of them. They were each a terrible idea on their own. But I liked to practice being in danger.
I wanted to shove Antares into the secret compartment and make that Supremacy bounty hunter beg for me. That he had painted a bigger target on his back to cover for my mistake only flamed my desire.
I needed to escape. I needed to get away from these men before I did something else careless. But I didn’t have that option. I had to stay here in a tiny space that smelled of musky, sweaty men who would be shirtless soon in this rising heat.
I cycled through breathing exercises to clear my mind.
“I’d thought I’d enjoy the view for a bit,” Antares said, startling me. Mr. Pancake panted in the general vicinity of the co-pilot’s seat.
I glanced out the windshield. If I squinted, I could make out the texture of the craggy hull of a storage container. “The view? Really?”
“I like to find patterns in the darkness,” he said.
“I can never tell if you’re being serious.”
“Me neither.”
I rolled my eyes though his response was oddly charming. I wanted to ask why he covered for me, but anyone could be eavesdropping.
Unless…I knew one way to communicate silently in the pitch dark. I’d used it with my last company when hiding out in the forests of Rodit.
With my heart in my throat and my hand trembling, I reached out to grasp Antares’s arm. He tensed under my touch, and then slowly relaxed. He didn’t pull away. I trailed my hand down his forearm. I felt his pulse racing through the thin skin of his wrist.
So was mine.
I turned his hand over, so his palm was facing upwards and pressed
my index finger against it. He wouldn’t know the code of symbols we used in my last company, so I spelled out letters instead. I traced them one by one, pausing at the end of each word. After the second word, he caught on because he gently squeezed my finger when I paused.
Why cover for me? I wrote.
Antares sighed, then he grasped my fingers. I hadn’t thought he was capable of being this gentle.
He turned my hand over and pressed a warm finger against my palm. His pressure was almost too soft, as though he was afraid to hurt me. It made it difficult to tell what he was writing.
You stood up for me. He hesitated, his finger trembling against my hand. I stroked his finger when he paused at the end of each word to show I understood. It was the slowest conversation I’ve ever had, but it felt so warm.
Few do, he added.
Don’t fall for it, I reminded myself. Why did you lie to me? I wrote on his palm.
I didn’t know they were there. His finger dug into my hand as though he were angry. He paused and continued, soft again. I helped because I didn’t want you to lose your ship.
Why? I wrote on his palm.
I understand needing a ship.
I pressed my lips together. I knew I shouldn’t believe him. He wasn’t like me. He was a Supremacy agent.
A ship is freedom. The only kind you can get in this galaxy, he wrote.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I’ve never met anyone who understood that. To most, a ship was a tool. A small, uncomfortable way to get from one place to another. And the most likely place where you’d go mad while watching hyperspace.
They didn’t see a ship the way I did. It was a home. One that didn’t tie you to a single place or person, but one that gave you the stars. A home that gave you every planet in the galaxy.
Antares was the first person who understood that.
A ship was all I had, too. They already took mine. No need for us both to lose our home, Antares wrote on my hand.
I shook my head. I should pull away, but instead I turned his hand over. He let me, damn it. I understand, I wrote.
He closed his hand over mine and squeezed it, warm and safe like a hug. I remained still and let him hold my hand in his. I let a Supremacy bounty hunter—a man who hunted people like me—stroke a finger along my third knuckle like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like we’d been doing it for years.
It felt right to be close with someone who understood ships and who helped me keep my home.
He might be lying, of course. But at that moment, I couldn’t believe he was.
Twenty-Five
Hamal brought the crew together even with death hanging over our heads.
I was still in the cockpit with Antares when Hamal’s calming voice echoed through the Firebrand. “It’s not every day we get to be weightless. Let’s have fun with it.”
“We’re finally pushing Antares out the airlock?” Rux said.
I ground my teeth. Next to me, Mr. Pancake growled.
“No. I’m suggesting a game of blind, weightless tag. Everywhere in the ship except the cargo hold.” Hamal chuckled. “No one will find their way out of there in the dark.”
His voice held such an undercurrent of joy that I couldn’t say no. Besides, I needed to keep the guys distracted for a couple of hours—or until one of Castor’s ships discovered us. Better that they competed than fought.
With the Firebrand growing hotter by the minute, I abandoned my jacket and flight suit for shorts and a tank top. Nobody would see me anyway, so I wouldn’t face the flashes of desire from Polaris, the strange looks from Rux during drills, or the raised eyebrows from Orion. Though I could wear a sack and he’d still grin like he was thinking dirty thoughts.
The problem was, I had those thoughts too. And thanks to the secret compartment, he knew it. And so did Antares.
It was all just a game to a dangerous man like Antares and a cocky, charming one like Orion. But Orion had held me as though I kept him from drowning, and he admitted to the pain of battle. That wasn’t a game, was it?
I pushed along the wall of my cabin until I found the door. I kept my feet parallel to the ground; pretending there was an up and down in zero-G made me less dizzy.
“If you’re tagged, shout your name so we know who to avoid. No touch backs. I’ll be it to start,” Hamal said.
It took three minutes to realize my mistake.
The men had also shed clothes in the 110-degree heat. I bumped into a bare chest and started to ricochet away, but the man wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.
“Careful now. I don’t want you smashing into a wall,” Hamal rumbled against the top of my head.
My heart pounded loud in my ears. I breathed deep of his warm musk, unable to stop myself.
He jerked as his back hit something. We drifted back the way we came, nestled together. His arm pressed me close to his broad chest.
“You’re it, cupcake,” Hamal whispered. His breath stirred my hair. I trembled with desire and was sure he felt it. “After the mission, we’ll come back to this,” he promised in a low growl and I gasped, half in surprise, half in desire.
Hamal broke our hold, drifting away. Without his touch, I felt empty, cold. Was I truly this desperate?
I tried to ignore it. I’d tag the closest man, then avoid the rest. I didn’t need anything else happening in the warm, sticky dark. “Calpurnia is it,” I shouted and pushed off the nearest wall, hurtling blindly down the corridor.
Bare skin brushed against me. I twisted toward him and grasped hot, sweaty shoulders. His well-defined muscles flexed under my palms as his rough hair brushed the underside of my chin.
I caught his sandalwood scent. He wasn’t Orion, Hamal, or Antares. His smell was vaguely familiar and comforting, as though I had breathed deep of it a long time ago.
“I doubt the guys have soft hands like that,” Po said and for once, he wasn’t stammering. “I must be it.”
I didn’t jerk away from him. And he didn’t push away from me. We floated in a slow, weightless circle with his head tucked under my chin. I tilted toward him to smell the scent of his hair. He made a small sound of approval.
What was I doing? This was entirely inappropriate. It would encourage him, then I’d hurt him even more when I left.
I pressed my palms against his back and shoved gently so that we flew off in opposite directions.
“I’m it,” Polaris shouted.
Orion laughed. “Cali works fast.”
I wished he wouldn’t call me that. At first, it had angered me. Now, it made my stomach flutter. I wasn’t certain which was worse.
I should have left the game after the moment with Polaris. But I needed to keep the men distracted so they didn’t turn on each other. Besides, these men were thorns in my side. I should get some enjoyment from them, especially when any moment could be my last.
In the tiny space, we bumped into each other and careened off in opposite directions. The men grabbed my arms and shoulders to stop their tumbles. But because I was lighter than they were, they pulled me against their firm bodies. My bare arms pushed against their bare chests. Our torsos pressed together with only the thin fabric of my tank top between us. Our bare legs tangled together.
It was actually fun.
It made me want to taste Hamal, to feel Polaris’s lips against mine, and to experience Antares pressed against me. It made me want to watch Rux undress again. More than anything, I wanted to find Orion.
But that was just the risk of death hanging over us. It made everything seem better. The warmth in my chest and between my legs would pass soon, as would any warmth the men felt. The cold, harsh light of normal life stifled all flames.
I bumped into another hard, strong body before ricocheting away. Rux grunted in annoyance.
So did I.
In the dark, a strong arm wrapped around my waist. I knew right away who it was. I’d recognize his touch and his woodsy scent anywhere.
I knew th
e smart thing was to push Orion away. Instead, I leaned back against him.
He chuckled against the back of my neck and it sent a shiver through me. I knew he noticed. Even if we weren’t pressed together, he would have noticed. I’d never been able to hide from him.
With the men chasing each other in another cabin, Orion and I drifted in a pocket of privacy. We cuddled together, his heat seeping into my skin. My eyes fell closed as I followed his breath against my neck, as I used to do to calm my anxiety and drift to sleep.
This was only for fun and temporary. I’d leave him before he could hurt me again. Two could play at his games, and I intended to win this time.
Orion turned me to face him. He wrapped his arm tight around my waist to stop me from spinning away in zero-G. I let him do it. Maybe I could take some pleasure from him before this was over.
With two fingers, he tilted my head up and paused, his mouth inches from mine. I sighed, helpless. He chuckled, and I cut the sound off by pressing my lips to his. He swiped for entrance, and like always, I opened and let him slide in. He traced my tongue and lips, slowly, firmly.
He pulled away, too soon, and whispered against my mouth, “Let me show you how sorry I am.”
Twenty-Six
The men’s voices echoed from the lower deck as Orion and I floated into my cabin. His hands found me immediately. He traced my arms, my shoulders. His warm, rough fingers stroked the sensitive skin of my neck before undoing my braid. My hair drifted free in the air around us as he trailed his fingers through it. I grasped his hips and bit my lip to stop myself from doing something embarrassing like gasping.
“This is only part one of my apology,” he murmured against my throat.
Orion had always struggled to express feelings in words. He expressed them in touch instead. He didn’t know how else to beg for forgiveness except with his hands on my hips and his mouth on my neck.
Should I let him?
It wouldn’t change anything. He couldn’t change the past. I couldn’t change that I wanted what he was offering me. But I could embrace the comfort and warmth I needed without forgiving him. I’d have my fun and leave him, the way he left me. It was better revenge than shunning him. Let him be rejected and heartbroken this time.
