and she pulled the sanitized air deep into her lungs. Noor vanished and left only the slight shimmer of the screen over the curving roof. Chae let her eyes close for brief moment. They’d done it. Escaped. Admittedly not in the way she planned, but being alive and on the move was a win right then.
Chae expelled a slow breath and opened her eyes. “After two jumps—to Shavgar-7 and Istakatar—we’re there. Well, in the planetary system. The security surrounding Ladaia-prime is your problem.” She tugged at her harness and pushed herself to her feet. “I plan to dry off.” She flapped her wet tunic and grimaced as it sucked to her bare skin. “Order up some fresh clothes.”
“It’s stripped bare. There’s a bunk with sheets and enough pattern energy in the production unit to make two of these.” He rubbed a towel over his shoulder and attacked his hair again. “Beyond that. Nothing.”
Chae cursed. “Fine.” She yanked the tunic over her head and hung it high on the side wall above the instrumentation. It dripped onto the floor tiles. But the heat in the cockpit would dry it out. “So. I’ve done the decoy thing. Now you tell me where my crystals are.”
“You’ll be paid, Captain. Don’t worry.”
“Now see, I am.” Chae folded her arms across her bare chest. “You say I have a crate of black crystal in my hangar.” She snorted. “And if that’s still there when I get back I will be, well, stunned.” No matter how secure the Ladaians thought the crate was, the thieves of Ulan Bator would gain access. Someone other than her would be very rich that night. “Where and when do I get my hands on the rest of my payment?” She lifted her boot. “This sliver of crystal will not allow me the life to which I plan to become accustomed.”
He pushed himself to his feet and his strength screamed at her. Cool air brushed over her bare skin, reminding her that she’d just yanked off her tunic without a thought. Shit. He wasn’t flesh. He had his own brain and would see…Her palms covered the scars on her belly and she fought the need for him that burned through her. It was soured by the knowledge that only the false desire of the living gold drove him to want her.
Her breath caught. Had she just imagined him staring at her breasts?
And then his question was a low growl that ran goose bumps over her flesh. “Is money all that you want?”
Chae stared at him. Was his question a serious one? And hell, was he asking about money…or something else? She stuck with the money. The something else was too dangerous to explore. “I’m shallow, Daned. I want luxury. You’re an aristocrat. Grew up with anything you wanted. I want to forget how I’ve had to live for practically all of my life. If you’ve researched me, you’ll know why.”
“I researched you. Your mother died when you were eleven, leaving you alone and on the streets of Ulan Bator. You survived running drugs for a local racketeer, Jobal Reve, the man who employed your mother as a chemist churning out caustic-angel in one of his dens.” He frowned. “Odd choice for a biologist and teacher.” He focused on her again, heat and anger in his gaze. “You’ve been arrested twelve times. Never convicted. How am I doing so far?” Daned stood too close, his height, the heat of his body making her heart pound. She began to back away, but he followed her. “And me being a Ladaian aristocrat? I was farmed out to one of the training camps at seven, learned to survive and to kill. A member of a faceless and secret army. It’s a holdover from the Host.”
The word ran cold through her and she grunted as she hit the flat bulkhead beyond the cockpit. “What the hell is that?”
“The Host?” His head tilted as she shivered again. “We told you. We become a race of warriors, bound heart and soul to our emperor. A horde of unstoppable killing machines who take joy from murder. Every one of us. No exception.”
He teased the edge of her jaw
Chae expelled a slow breath and opened her eyes. “After two jumps—to Shavgar-7 and Istakatar—we’re there. Well, in the planetary system. The security surrounding Ladaia-prime is your problem.” She tugged at her harness and pushed herself to her feet. “I plan to dry off.” She flapped her wet tunic and grimaced as it sucked to her bare skin. “Order up some fresh clothes.”
“It’s stripped bare. There’s a bunk with sheets and enough pattern energy in the production unit to make two of these.” He rubbed a towel over his shoulder and attacked his hair again. “Beyond that. Nothing.”
Chae cursed. “Fine.” She yanked the tunic over her head and hung it high on the side wall above the instrumentation. It dripped onto the floor tiles. But the heat in the cockpit would dry it out. “So. I’ve done the decoy thing. Now you tell me where my crystals are.”
“You’ll be paid, Captain. Don’t worry.”
“Now see, I am.” Chae folded her arms across her bare chest. “You say I have a crate of black crystal in my hangar.” She snorted. “And if that’s still there when I get back I will be, well, stunned.” No matter how secure the Ladaians thought the crate was, the thieves of Ulan Bator would gain access. Someone other than her would be very rich that night. “Where and when do I get my hands on the rest of my payment?” She lifted her boot. “This sliver of crystal will not allow me the life to which I plan to become accustomed.”
He pushed himself to his feet and his strength screamed at her. Cool air brushed over her bare skin, reminding her that she’d just yanked off her tunic without a thought. Shit. He wasn’t flesh. He had his own brain and would see…Her palms covered the scars on her belly and she fought the need for him that burned through her. It was soured by the knowledge that only the false desire of the living gold drove him to want her.
Her breath caught. Had she just imagined him staring at her breasts?
And then his question was a low growl that ran goose bumps over her flesh. “Is money all that you want?”
Chae stared at him. Was his question a serious one? And hell, was he asking about money…or something else? She stuck with the money. The something else was too dangerous to explore. “I’m shallow, Daned. I want luxury. You’re an aristocrat. Grew up with anything you wanted. I want to forget how I’ve had to live for practically all of my life. If you’ve researched me, you’ll know why.”
“I researched you. Your mother died when you were eleven, leaving you alone and on the streets of Ulan Bator. You survived running drugs for a local racketeer, Jobal Reve, the man who employed your mother as a chemist churning out caustic-angel in one of his dens.” He frowned. “Odd choice for a biologist and teacher.” He focused on her again, heat and anger in his gaze. “You’ve been arrested twelve times. Never convicted. How am I doing so far?” Daned stood too close, his height, the heat of his body making her heart pound. She began to back away, but he followed her. “And me being a Ladaian aristocrat? I was farmed out to one of the training camps at seven, learned to survive and to kill. A member of a faceless and secret army. It’s a holdover from the Host.”
The word ran cold through her and she grunted as she hit the flat bulkhead beyond the cockpit. “What the hell is that?”
“The Host?” His head tilted as she shivered again. “We told you. We become a race of warriors, bound heart and soul to our emperor. A horde of unstoppable killing machines who take joy from murder. Every one of us. No exception.”
He teased the edge of her jaw
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