She shook her head. “That’s a well-kept secret around him. How would we explain the differences? And like I said before, he reboots you otherwise. Reprograms a person to be his.”
Were Sanaa and Merrick the only ones who’d escaped the final injection? There would be rebel super soldiers now, too. But the Overseer was searching for more A1 blood as we spoke. There had to be others like Bridgebane—pure Mornavail.
“And the GIN Project?” I asked. “The early test subjects?”
Sanaa spread her hands. “He’ll find more pure blood. He already did in that lot we pulled off the Ewelock DWALSH.”
“Has he had time to use it? Make more enhancers?” I panicked. I might have given the rebellion super soldiers, but the Overseer would have Sanaa Mwendes. That wasn’t a fair fight.
“We don’t think so. We didn’t know about the GIN Project or the early testing. The Overseer did that all by himself. He’s still analyzing, as far as your father can tell. Figuring out the variations in the blood samples and seeing how the differences interact with his formula. They weren’t all pures. Most of them weren’t. And now, he’s lost his supply again.”
Well, thank the Powers for that. Turning to pace, I scraped my hands through my hair and pulled it back. “The wider GIN Project is still coming. We have to stop it.”
“One thing at a time. Let’s worry about Starbase 12 next.” Sanaa held up the bag in her hand.
Curiosity about what my father—shit, even thinking that was weird—had left us warred with pulse-spiking anxiety over the GIN Project. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was my fault.
The expensive hardwood floor creaked under my feet, like new and unused things did. “The early testing started right after I stole the lab, didn’t it? I took the Overseer’s whole stash of enhancers, and he realized he’d fucked himself by ‘killing’ me when I was eight.”
“Something like that.”
I stabbed a prickly look at Sanaa as I stalked past. “You mean exactly like that.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Daraja. The Overseer is the one dragging people off to laboratory prisons.”
I expelled a bitter huff. It felt a little like flying apart at the seams—except everything was finally knitting together. “The lab or me. That was what Bridgebane said on Starway 8. He didn’t get either, so he threatened the orphanage and forced the blood exchange on me instead. He knew he had to scramble to appease that monster with something, anything, before the Overseer set something terrible into motion to look for more A1 blood.”
But he’d already been too late. He just didn’t know it. And the Overseer had tried to capture me even while launching a backup plan. There’d still been time to stop the GIN Project. No public announcement yet. If either of them had caught me or taken the lab back, none of this would be happening right now.
“He’ll do it every time, won’t he? Sacrifice me for the greater good? I’m expendable to my own father.” That hurt so much more now that I knew who my real father was.
At the same time, what was he supposed to do? Sacrifice everyone else?
Sanaa flicked an impatient hand through the air. “You’re too smart to say stupid things.”
“Okay. Then why this sudden concern for me? After all this time without a word? After being ready to hand me over as a blood dispenser, even if he didn’t want to?”
“My opinion?” She lifted her brows.
“Yeah.” I was pretty sure it would be spot on.
“The general could live without you before. He was used to it. The longer you’re back in his life, the closer he gets to choosing you. No matter the cost.”
I sat abruptly on the bright berry-red bed again, my legs suddenly weak. That was exactly what I wanted to hear. It filled my chest with hope, and yet… What would choosing me mean? Leaving the galaxy solely in the hands of the Overseer? How could I ever want that?
There were probably days when my father found a way to save hundreds of lives and make it look like some rebel scum had messed with the Dark Watch, just like he had on the Ewelock hub. Nathaniel Bridgebane was essential to the resistance. He had been from the start. “I can’t let him do that. He has to stay strong.”
And despite my railing at him, he had put me in the best possible place. I loved the orphanage. Starway 8 was my dream, past, present, and future.
But did that erase abandonment? And believing the only real family I had left would slit my throat if I ever showed up on his doorstep? Bridgebane was convincing. He had to be. How else could he walk this…bridge for decades?
“Yes,” Sanaa agreed. “He has to stay strong.”
And right then, I saw the dead eyes in her also. Cold and ruthless couldn’t always be an act. It had to be real, along with real atrocities, or it wouldn’t fool the Overseer.
What an awful burden, pretending all the time, doing things you hated. Kill ten to save twenty. Those were the kind of choices they made, Sanaa and my father. Maybe his lies had spared me that.
I swallowed, a dry bob of muscle that hurt my throat. “All right, then. On to the next step.” They didn’t know it yet, but Shiori and Reena Ahern were waiting for a jailbreak.
Without a word, Sanaa led the way out, locking up behind us. I didn’t take anything with me. Unless I was dead, I’d be back.
Chapter 19
SHADE
I looked in the mirror. Nathaniel Bridgebane, Galactic General, Dark Watch 12, stared back at me.
Tess had a lot of questions for her real father. Unfortunately, I couldn’t answer them. I only wore his face and his uniform. Held his badge in my hand. I couldn’t explain his choices, but I hoped Tess got the chance to ask about them. And about the past. I saw the cracks in her, the holes that needed to be filled with information only Bridgebane could give.
The general had left five things for Tess in the safe inside that Galligar Prime apartment.
A pile of trick handcuffs—he’d obviously conferred with Mwende about our plan.
A crimson Dark Watch uniform for a tall man with broad shoulders.
A full Nathaniel Bridgebane head mask, complete with dark-brown hair turning silver at the temples.
Blue contact lenses.
A duplicate of his security badge.
With everything on and pulled into place as it was now, I was General Bridgebane. He was about to walk onto Starbase 12, as usual. The man had provided us with the easiest access imaginable to the most secure location in the galaxy. Bridgebane and Mwende would arrive together with high-profile prisoners. Nothing unusual in that. Not a single person could question our actions except for the Overseer himself. He was the only one who outranked Bridgebane.
If something went wrong, the real Bridgebane could deny all knowledge of the deception and pin the betrayal on Mwende. Not ideal, but someone had to stay the course if we couldn’t.
It was our original plan, improved upon by trading prisoner Shade Ganavan for a fake General Bridgebane, a man no one would dare disobey in the entire military, even if his voice sounded a little different. I could mimic well, but it wasn’t perfect. I’d speak as little as possible. Bark out orders. We still had Tess, Jax, and Merrick as important captives—our reason for demanding an interrogation room and the presence of “incentives” to make them talk.
It should work. Get Shiori and Ahern in the same place as the rest of us. Get out.
Our biggest concern was the Overseer catching wind of our actions and asking questions before we left the starbase.
I turned to Tess. “You ready, baby?”
She made a face. “Don’t call me that when you look like my father.”
I sidled closer, amping up the sleaze. “No daddy fetish?”
Tess’s full body shiver came with a little giggle. It was the first time she’d cracked a smile in days. “Dressed like that, you’re my worst nightmare.”
“Shade!” Tess laughed outright this time, and it felt like victory. Her next once-over didn’t look quite so revolted at the idea of cozying up to me.
“Are you done with that message?” I asked, slipping Bridgebane’s security badge into the slot in his uniform designed for it.
She nodded and pressed Send. “Mareeka and Surral will read between the lines and know I’m up to something dangerous.”
“They’ll want news from you when you return.”
She powered off her tablet and set it on the bedside table. Bonk was taking up most of her pillow, and she stopped to pat him before turning back to me. “I said to hug Coltin for me. I told them I’d found Gabe.”
“I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed.” I tried hard to keep any of the stiffness I felt from my voice.
“Yeah.” She nodded, sounding distant.
“What is it?” I coaxed her up and settled my hands on her hips. Tess almost leaned into me and then seemed to recoil from the uniform. Or from the illusion of her father. Maybe both.
“Gabe doesn’t care about Starway 8 like I do.”
My heart thudded, a hard beat that told me this was either a conversation I really wanted or really didn’t. “Why do you say that? There hasn’t been much time for long talks, or for reminiscing about the past.” I forced myself to sound as neutral as possible. Now wasn’t the time for jealousy or reverting to a Neanderthal. Jax had that covered for all of us.
“He didn’t think about telling them he was alive. It didn’t occur to him. It didn’t even occur to him that Mareeka and Surral could get word to me. It’s as if he left and that was it. Done. Goodbye.”
“That’s probably the way it is for most everyone,” I said. “Thousands of people can’t just hang around forever. They’d need more room.”
A smile tugged at her mouth again. “Maybe. But for him, it should’ve been more.”
“Because it’s more for you.” I got where she was coming from with this. When you love someone, what matters to them matters to you. Period. I already respected the hell out of Starway 8, and I had no doubt my feelings for the orphanage would evolve into something probably as obsessive as my devotion to my docks. That was just how I worked when I cared about something. For now, though, I was in it for Tess.
“See? It’s not that hard to understand, and you didn’t even live there for more than half your life.”
I drew her against me, wishing she didn’t feel stiff and that I didn’t look like a man she was so damn conflicted about. I pressed her head against my neck, hoping she’d just listen to my voice, hear me. “You’re a gift, Tess. Starway 8 is a gift. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the galaxy because you chose me. I swear to care for the orphanage as much as you do, and to protect it and everyone in it, right alongside you, with my life.”
“Shade.” She sighed my name and melted into me. Her arms came around my waist. The clenching in my chest went from uncomfortable to unbearable as I realized this was it.
“I want to kiss you. I want to make love to you.” Splaying my hand wide against the back of her head, I kept her tucked in close. Could she feel my heart beating? It hammered relentlessly against my ribs. “But I look like your asshole-maybe-not-asshole father, and we don’t have time for that.”
Her breath punched out, something between a huffed-out laugh and a not-quite sob hitting my neck with a sudden rush of warmth. I didn’t mean to turn her inside out with this Starway 8 stuff. I just wanted her to know…
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.” I paused and swallowed. “There were all these times I wanted to, but it just never came out.”
She glanced up. The second she saw my face, she frowned.
“No, don’t look at me wearing this mask. That’ll screw everything up.” I pressed on her head again, angling it down.
She leaned against my shoulder. “You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m freaking myself out.” My heart was doing backflips now. “I’ve never done this before.”
“What the hell, Shade?” Her grip tightened around my waist, even as she tensed away from me.
I sank my fingers into her hair, not letting her go anywhere. The thick rope of her braid felt strange when I was used to having her long hair down and smooth between my fingers. I pushed deeper to feel her under my hand. “I love you, Tess. I’m so fucking in love with you it hurts. And I’ll love the orphanage, too, and not only because you do. I promise.”
She didn’t move. She didn’t say a thing, and the worst sort of fear started crawling up my chest.
“You’ll have to clean up your language,” she finally said, her voice muffled against my jacket.
“What?” I rasped out. Maybe she wasn’t there yet, but love grew, right? I could still convince Tess.
“You’ll have to clean up your language on Starway 8,” she said more clearly. “The kids can’t hear us talking like that.”
“Kids know everything by age eleven. I swear, there are no secrets left.”
She looked up at me, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “Well, there are some things we don’t need to teach them.”
A spike of adrenaline hit my veins. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” The painful knot in my chest started to loosen, but my breath came short, and my hands almost shook.
She smiled. “I love you, too, Shade. And I trust you with Starway 8.”
Joy nearly ripped apart my heart. Not caring that I looked like Bridgebane, I lowered my head and kissed her. Tess closed her eyes and kissed me back. She was all there, all in. I could feel it. Blood fired through my body. Tess. A future. A place that needed us. It electrified me like nothing had in a decade and unleashed something wild inside.
I clutched her hard and growled like a savage. “I wish we had more time.” Before she could respond, I brought her to her toes and devoured every hot, delicious inch of her mouth, consuming her.
“I wish you didn’t have that mask and uniform.” Her breathless voice went straight to my tightening groin. I ground against her.
“Keep your eyes closed.” I swept my tongue into her mouth again, her taste and the feel of her under my hands driving me crazy with need.
Tess hooked her leg around my hip and rocked into me. I lifted her and spun her against the closed door, pinning her with my whole body. She moaned. We lined up perfectly. My erection pressed against the juncture of her thighs, and the heat of her left a permanent imprint on me. I was stamped for life. She softened, but I went rock-hard.
I broke off for a ragged breath before I drowned. Tess opened her eyes. They widened. She stared at me in horror and then burst out laughing.
“That is by far the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.” She half choked on another laugh, slamming her eyes closed again.
I reluctantly unglued myself from her and cleared my throat. “I guess it’s time to go anyway. You ready for this?” I asked in a hoarse voice.
She opened her eyes, two bright-blue starbursts that glittered with teasing warmth. “Cupcake, I’m ready for anything.”
“Cupcake.” I shook my head. “I should never have called you ‘sugar,’ not even once.”
“Nope.” A smile curved her lips. It expanded, her grin infectious, until we both laughed. “But I love you anyway.”
My heart grew ten sizes too big for my chest and squashed everything else aside. I couldn’t breathe, but I kissed her again. And then again, because I couldn’t help it, and because there was no telling what the next few hours would bring.
* * *
We landed on Starbase 12 without incident. Mwende rattled off security codes and personal identification numbers while the rest of us stayed quiet and waited. It was two days after Daniel Ah
ern’s contact was supposed to have lowered the alarm for three hours on Platform 7. Two days after the man probably thought we’d bailed on the mission and abandoned his wife. The rebel leaders in the Fold probably thought so, too. We hadn’t informed anyone of the change of plan. It wouldn’t have been smart. We also had no easy way to contact them.
Mwende seemed fully committed to helping us, even though she had a lot to lose if things went wrong here. We could all potentially lose our lives, and she could potentially blow her cover. There was no mask on her face. That was her own dark skin and sweat-free complexion. It was almost a shame to risk her.
She looked over at me from the passenger’s seat as I powered down the cruiser. Ten heavily armed Dark Watch guards were already coming forward to greet us. Tess, Jax, and Merrick were out of sight and handcuffed in the back section. They’d need to be careful not to move wrong, or the fake cuffs could pop open.
“Own that uniform,” Mwende told me in a low but steely voice. “Believe it.”
Her words sank deep. Belief. That was what it took. Purpose. Convictions that went beyond myself. Hope.
The echo of a thousand revolutions rose inside me to grip me around the throat. Drumbeat heart. Gunshot pulse. My whole body burning up.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. A war cry wanted to fly out.
Squaring my shoulders, I opened the door and stepped down. Today wouldn’t be about battling these people. It would be about pretending to be one of them until we got what we came here for.
“General, we’re here to escort you.” The leading soldier’s quick salute was picture perfect. It made me want to kick him in the head.
I nodded again. I could corral my natural drawl into more clipped tones, but there was no reason to tempt fate. I’d speak when necessary.
Mwende gathered the prisoners. We surrounded them along with the ten guards and started toward the lifts.
“We want the Lower H interrogation room. Make sure it’s clear,” Mwende snapped.
“Yes, Lieutenant.” The same soldier who’d greeted me used a pocket-sized tablet to confirm that the room was empty. “I’ll bring the usual instruments,” he said.
Starbreaker Page 33
