by Kali Argent
“You don’t want to be alone with me.” Dropping her hand, she linked her fingers together in front of her and nodded as if she’d expected the response. “I don’t bite, you know. Well, unless you’re into that kind of thing.”
Slade’s cock throbbed in earnest at the implication of her words, but he ruthlessly battled back his desire. “I don’t mind being alone with you.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been ducking me all week?” One goldish-red eyebrow winged up toward her hairline in challenge.
“I have a ship to run, female. I’ve been working, not purposely trying to avoid you.”
She just shrugged as she stared up at him with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, big guy. Maybe you’ll even start to believe it.”
Damn it, she was infuriating, but really, her refusal to put up with his crap just made him want her more. He didn’t even know why he tried to fight it. What he’d felt for Ursa paled in comparison to the driving need he felt for the redhead with bow-shaped lips and mesmerizing blue eyes.
Isla enchanted him, made him want to be a better male, a worthy mate, and yet, his past continued to haunt him. Even after all these years, Ursa Kristos was still proving to be his undoing.
“Do you still love her?”
Slade jerked his head up, sure he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Excuse me?”
“Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked that.” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it until the skin turned an angry red.
Sliding his fingers under her chin, he caressed the spot just under her lip, back and forth, until she finally released the swollen flesh. “You can ask me anything, and no. That was a long time ago.”
“But you did love her. That doesn’t just go away.”
“People fall out of love every day, Isla.” No, he didn’t love Ursa anymore, but he also didn’t want to make the same mistakes twice.
“I’m sorry she hurt you.” Taking his hand that still held her chin, she moved it to rest against the side of her face and nuzzled into his palm. “She didn’t deserve you.”
And Slade didn’t deserve Isla. “I—”
The office door slid open, and Castar stumbled into the room, his eyes wide and panicked. “Cord’s gone.”
“You were supposed to be watching him!” Slade roared, hurrying after Isla as she shoved past Castar and darted into the bar.
He should have never let Cord go off with Castar. The boy was his responsibility, and he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to him. In a place as big as X4, with over a quarter of a million occupants, the kid could be anywhere.
Thankfully, Isla approached the situation calmly, analytically, though Slade could sense the fear coursing through her.
“Where is the last place you saw him?”
“We were in the kitchen,” Castar answered as he fell into step beside her. “I turned my back for two seconds to get the cookies out of the food console, and he just vanished.”
“Which door leads to the kitchen?” she demanded, scanning the bar as she shoved her way through the crowd.
“This way.” Taking her by the wrist, Slade dragged her through the throng of bodies to the other end of the polished bar. “Tell me what to do.”
“Just let me think.” She pressed her hands to her temples and stared down at the floor for several heartbeats before turning back to Castar. “What was he doing before he disappeared?”
Vandal pointed to the window near the top of the kitchen door. “I stacked some boxes up by the wall, and he was looking out the window.”
“Slade.”
Without being told what to do, Slade lifted Isla into his arms, holding her level with the circular window. “What do you see?”
“There.” Isla pointed to a storefront on the other side of the common area with all manner of stuffed animals and electronic gadgets in the display case.
“He wouldn’t have gone alone. He knows better than that.”
Isla gave him an incredulous look. “He’s four, Slade. He has about as much impulse control as Bastian.”
When put that way… “Point taken.”
“Guys, I’m so fucking sorry.” Castar shoved his hands through his hair and fisted the long locks.
“Just help me find him.”
Isla didn’t have the time or energy to sit around and play the blame game, not when Slade’s defenses were finally down and all of his chaotic emotions were battering against her with the force of a meteor. On the surface, he appeared calm and collected, but inside, he spun out of control, moving between anger, anxiety, and guilt. While relieved that he’d finally dropped the wall between them, everything hitting her at once made it difficult to concentrate.
Slade lowered her to the ground, but he left a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. “Stay here.”
“What? No.”
“Isla, I can’t look for Cord and protect you, too, not out there. You’re safe here.”
She didn’t give a damn about herself. She had to find her son. “I’m going.”
“No.” His tone brooked no argument. “Stand by the door and watch if you must, but do not step foot outside of this sanctuary. Besides, he might find his way back.”
Damn Slade and his logic. “Okay, fine.” She shoved at him, pushing him toward the exit. “Just find him and bring him back. Please.”
Slade touched her cheek, then he and Caster were gone, marching through the crowd like they were going to battle rather than looking for a missing little boy. Isla took a moment to pull herself together, to bury the worst-case scenarios that played through her mind. Once she felt more in control, she followed after them, but stopped just inside the bar, scanning the people in the atrium, looking for any sign of Cord.
She should contact security. Maybe they could use the camera feeds to find him. He couldn’t be the only child who’d been separated from his parents. Surely the station had protocols in place for just such a situation.
Before she could decide what to do, Vandal Indo appeared at her shoulder, and he looked almost as rattled as his brother. “I just heard, and I’ve contacted security. Breathe, Isla. Everything is going to be okay, I promise. We’ll find him.”
“Thank you.”
Vandal’s arrival had been enough of a distraction for her to lose sight of Slade. Feeling more panicked as the seconds ticked by, she surveyed the throng of bodies, flitting from one person to the next, searching for a familiar face. After several tense minutes, she nearly cried in relief when she spotted Knox and Bastian making their way to the sanctuary.
“Security found him,” Bastian called before he’d even reached her. “They’re bringing him here now.”
Isla did cry then. “Oh, thank the stars.”
“Hey, easy.” Knox closed the distance and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight as he peppered kisses over the top of her head. “He’s okay. A D’Aire female messaged security, and she sat with him by the fountain until they arrived. I’m sure you can guess why he wanted to talk to her.”
Isla chuckled wetly. “That kid is obsessed with flying.”
“Kylir, Rakesh, and a few other crew members are on their way. They insisted on helping us look for him when they heard what had happened.” Bastian greeted Vandal with a brief hug before pressing against Isla’s back, surrounding her in protection and support. “It happens. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I’m not the one who lost him,” Isla answered defensively. Now that she knew Cord was okay, though, she could afford to be forgiving. “Castar is probably hating himself right now, but you’re right. It’s not anyone’s fault.”
Cord was a curious and precocious four-year-old boy with a fixation on all things related to flying. It could just as easily have been her who’d looked away for just a split second, only to turn back and find him missing. Being a parent wasn’t easy, and she’d probably make plenty of mistakes through the years, but at least she had three dedicated males and
an entire crew of honorary aunts and uncles to help her along the way.
“I thought I recognized you.”
She felt Bastian and Knox both stiffen at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Wiggling out of their combined embrace, she sidestepped Knox’s arm when he reached for her, looking for the person who had spoken.
Standing just past the threshold of the sanctuary, a young female elite dressed in the standard black and gray uniform of the Alliance held Cord’s hand, her cerulean-blue gaze fixed on Isla.
“Mommy?” Cord looked up at the officer, then to Isla, and back. He took a step toward her, but stopped when the elite refused to release his hand. “Mommy!”
“Let him go,” Isla growled, advancing on the female.
She was going to tear every blonde strand from the woman’s head, but Bastian stopped her, catching her around the waist and hauling her off her feet.
“Stop it,” he growled. “Stay here.”
“If you want him,” the elite called with a triumphant smirk, “you’re going to have to come out here and get him, Miss Blevins.”
“Put me down.” She jerked and twisted, attempting to free herself from Bastian’s grasp. “I’m going to rip her fucking head off.”
Then Slade stepped through a part in the crowd, his expression a mixture of relief and fury. “Hey, buddy,” he said to Cord, dropping to one knee beside the boy. “What are you doing out here?”
“Who are you?” the elite demanded.
Slade tilted his head back, looked her right in the eye, and said, “His father.”
She shook her head and scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
A low rumble rose up over the bass of the music as Slade reached out, grabbing the wrist connected to the hand still holding Cord, and snapped it backwards. The female cried out, stumbling away from them as she clutched her broken wrist to her chest. Tears streamed down her bronzed cheeks, but Slade paid no attention to her as he scooped Cord into his arms and carried him into the safety of the sanctuary.
Desperate to hold the boy and examine him, to assure herself he was perfectly fine, Isla reached for him, but Cord threw his arms around Slade’s neck, burying his face into the side of the male’s neck. His little shoulders shook with sobs, and he mumbled-hiccupped something to Slade she couldn’t hear.
“What’s he saying?”
“He doesn’t like the elite,” Slade answered quietly.
Cord lifted his head and pointed at the officer. “Mean lady!”
“That’s right, but it’s okay now,” Slade assured him. “I’ve got you, and she’s not going to touch you again.”
“I wanna go home.” Cord wiped his tear-stained cheeks and sniffle. “Please, Daddy?”
Isla’s heart melted as a tidal wave of love crashed over her—part her own emotions, part Slade’s. The look on the male’s face was priceless, and she wished she had a way to capture it, to suspend this moment in time forever.
“Sure thing, kid.” Slade cleared his throat, but it didn’t erase the tightness in his voice. “We’re going to go home real soon.”
“How the hell are we going to get them to the ship?” Bastian nodded at the growing number of elites lining up outside of Fortuna.
“She’s safe here,” Vandal assured them. “They know better than to mess with one of our guests.”
That was probably true, but Isla couldn’t stay inside the sanctuary forever. “What are we going to do?”
“I wanna go home!” Cord wailed, fresh tears streaming down his face.
All at once, the world went black, the oxygen leached out of her lungs, and Isla was falling. In the next heartbeat, her feet landed on the Storm Rider’s exit ramp, and she stumbled sideways into Knox.
“Did he do that?” Bastian asked from a little farther down the ramp. He tilted his head toward Cord who was still clinging to Slade’s neck. “That’s going to be interesting.”
A Krytos female who looked remarkably like Castar and Vandal rushed into the docking bay, followed closely by Kylir and Rakesh. “Go,” she shouted. “Hurry. Get them on the ship.” She stopped at the bottom of the ramp and nodded up at Isla. “Krenza Indo. Sorry we didn’t get a chance to have a proper conversation, but you really need to go.”
“Thank you,” Isla called over her shoulder as Rakesh ushered her up the ramp.
“How the hell did you get here so fast?” Bastian demanded.
“We heard security had found Cord, so we were already on our way back,” Kylir answered. “We ran into Krenza on the way. That’s all I know.”
“Vandal messaged me about what happened with the elite. Then again when you guys just poofed out of the sanctuary.” Krenza shrugged, but she kept looking over her shoulder, her gaze going to the doors of the docking bay. “It wasn’t hard to guess where you ended up. Now, go.”
Isla didn’t need to be told twice, and the incident had reminded her of something very important. Unless they could find the evidence they needed to clear her name, she’d always be on the run.
As far as the Alliance was concerned, she’d always be an outlaw.
CHAPTER TEN
Isla didn’t see much of Cord over the two weeks it took to get from X4 to Earth. She’d worried that the episode at Fortuna would cause him to regress, but after a fitful first night, he seemed as cheerful as ever. He spent a lot of time with Kylir getting his flying fix, but he’d also been spending more time with Bastian, Knox, and Slade.
Apparently, someone had explained to him that he could have more than one dad and he’d taken that to heart, christening Bastian and Knox as “Baba” and “Papi,” respectively. She didn’t know where he’d heard the terms, but she had a feeling the crew might have had something to do with it, along with a little help from Pip, the ship’s AI.
There were more tea parties, games of hide-and-seek, and Bastian had started teaching Cord how to write his name. One of the males read to him every night before bed, and while it would have been easy to feel left out, Isla enjoyed watching her guys together, all four of them. Cord wasn’t old enough to understand how lucky he was to have so many people who loved him, but one day, she’d tell him, and she’d have so many memories to use as examples.
With Cord becoming more independent, it also freed her up to spend some quality time alone with her mates. Even Slade had begun to open up, including her in important decisions, and asking her opinion about various things around the ship. His latest venture was to add a playground to one of the empty cargo holds for Cord.
The only problem was credits.
Isla had assured him that once the Alliance unfroze her accounts, she’d have more than enough credits to pay for whatever they needed. It couldn’t happen soon enough, either. The food supply in the kitchen had dwindled drastically during their voyage to Earth. They’d completely diminished the stock in the food console, leaving them to assemble their meals by hand. They hadn’t been forced to skip meals yet, but when the Storm Rider landed in the docking bays at the edge of Jade City, the entire crew was ready for a hot meal.
It felt strange to be back. It reality, she hadn’t been gone that long, but so much had changed since then that it felt like a lifetime had passed. During the shuttle ride to the Krytos sanctuary, Haven, Isla recognized the buildings and streets beyond the cabin windows, but the city no longer felt like her home.
Jade City had once been a beautiful, bustling place with lush greenery and sparkling lakes. People had cared about one another, and they’d looked out for each other. Since her stepfathers had taken over command, residents mostly watched out for themselves.
Her grandparents had literally built Jade City after the Alien Wars. Everything from the reaching skyscrapers to the sprawling medical centers, and on down to the modest, privately owned shops along the Avenue were designed and constructed by Monahan Development. Isla was proud of her heritage, proud of what her family had accomplished, but she didn’t care about the privilege or credits that came with her mother’s maiden name.
Pale gray clouds churned across the sky, echoing her melancholy. Frigid winds howled through the barren trees and battered against the side of the shuttle, rocking them from side to side as they navigated the short trip to the sanctuary on the north side of the city. Winter had arrived in the city, and with it the threat of snow and ice.
Normally, she loved the winter. Though it seemed bleak at the time with everything dead, she saw it as wiping the slate clean. Then spring would arrive with fresh blooms and bright, green leaves, and the world was new again. Now, she mostly just felt indifferent.
“This is your home?” Knox asked, his brow furrowed as he stared through the shuttle windows, taking in the graffiti that covered the sides of the buildings and the debris that littered the gutters. “I pictured something different.”
“It wasn’t always like this.”
In the year since her stepfathers had taken command, the city had descended into chaos. Many of the shops along the Avenue were now abandoned, their owners packing up and moving to the Capital or Light City. It pained her to see the sidewalks devoid of people, but then again, it didn’t surprise her.
The shuttled slowed, descending toward what looked like a large, family home near the edge of Lake Hebero. The bricks had cracked and faded over the years, but the place still looked inviting despite its cosmetic deficiencies. Windows of every size shined from both stories of the mini mansion, alight with a warm, amber glow that beckoned weary travelers. A sprawling balcony wrapped around the upper level, supported by enormous slate-gray, stone pillars that extended up from the downstairs porch.
Looking at it from the outside, no one would ever guess the place was a Krytos sanctuary, but Isla guessed that was probably on purpose. Sadayka Tavish took the comfort and safety of her guests at Haven seriously. Since she welcomed mostly lost and broken women who had been abused in some way by males, she’d even gone so far as to employ an exclusively female staff. Naturally, men frequented the restaurant on the lower level and the bar in the basement, but those seeking sanctuary at Haven never had to see or interact with them.
