Read Online Entangled by Amy Rose Capetta - Free Book Online Page B

so tall that Cade had to arch to see more than his chin. She stared him full in the face, and there was nothing mild about it.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said, with all the charm of an instructions manual, “but I can’t let you take this onboard.”
    â€œBut it’s my guitar,” Cade said. “I know there’s not a lot of room but . . . it’s the only thing I own.”
    â€œIt’s not an issue of room. It’s the nature of the beast.”
    Cade clapped Cherry-Red to her stomach, held her close. “Don’t call my guitar a—”
    â€œI’m talking about the ship,” he said. “My Renna.” At the mention of its name, the ship gave a little jump. “She’s sensitive to electricity. This is electric?” Rennik asked, touching the case with one of those odd, fine-carved fingers.
    â€œYes. What do you mean, sensitive? And what do you mean,
she?
”
    â€œRenna is a girl-ship.” Rennik’s voice had been flat, but it took on peaks and valleys when he talked about Renna. “She’s very much alive. And she gets sick. You know, she’s, what’s the word . . .
allergic
to electricity.”
    â€œShe’s . . . what?”
    Rennik put a hand to the curve of the ship. “Renna is my orbital.”
    Every Hatchum had an orbital. They could sail through any atmosphere, cut through space to carry messages and small items for their Hatchum. But Cade had never heard of one growing to a size where it could take passengers or cargo. There was no arguing with it, though—this was a spaceship, and she was alive. Now that Cade really looked, she could see the blink of little black eyes all over the surface. And the scratchy pink walkway had definite tonguelike qualities.
    â€œWhat if I keep the guitar unplugged?” Cade asked.
    â€œIt’s much too dangerous.” Rennik ran his hand in a soothing manner over a fine-haired patch of ship. “I would tell you what happened the time we made an exception for a battery-operated flashlight, but you wouldn’t sleep soundly for a week.”
    There was another kick from inside the canvas pack. Cade knew that Lee was telling her to hurry it up.
    Cade looked down at Cherry-Red. “When is blastoff?”
    â€œRenna doesn’t blast,” the Hatchum said. “She lifts with delight and ease.”
    â€œAll right,” Cade said. “When do things get delightful?”
    â€œTwo minutes.”
    Rennik’s calm inched Cade to anger. “I have
two minutes
to decide what to do with the one thing in the universe I care about?”
    Rennik looked her over—and Cade looked him over right back. He should have been easy to interpret. Dramatic, handsome, almost-human. But it all fell apart when she reached his face. It was one thing to take note of his sharp-ridged cheekbones, how they sucked in underneath like craters. But Cade wasn’t a dreg-brained club girl. She needed a hint of how this Hatchum felt about taking her onboard.
    And she couldn’t find one.
    â€œIf Lee said you were coming, I’ll carry you,” Rennik said. “I owe her several hundred favors. But we’re leaving in two minutes, so both of you have to go. Strap in.”
    Cade should have been grateful, but the Hatchum wasn’t making it easy. Still, this was her ride. She stowed the guitar case behind the walkway to buy some time, and hurried onto the ship.
    She found the cargo hold off the central chamber and put the pack down, doing her best not to thump Lee against the floor. With two minutes draining fast, she ran back down the walkway, grabbed her case, and snapped it open.
    Cade ran her fingers across the frets and over the strings. Tightened a peg. Touched the hollow body.
    Parting with Cherry-Red would be the worst thing Cade had to do since she decided to leave Andana. It would be harder than making nice with the spacesicks. It would