“We’re not sending her back,” I repeat. “And we’re not just going to drop her off on Miscellany, like a lamb to the slaughter. Which means she’s staying with us.” With me.
Mine.
I grab a water bottle from the galley and drain half of it, trying to drown that voice, before it becomes the only thing I can hear.
“Anyway,” Sotelo continues. “Our other problem is keeping Meshach from finding out that we have her.”
“That shouldn’t be an issue,” a soft voice says. I spin to find the floor hatch open and Grace peeking out from the cargo hold.
Shit. I want to know how long she’s been there, but I’m embarrassed to ask.
“Well, if you’re going to eavesdrop, you may as well come on up.” Zamora stands, clearly ready to offer her his chair. But then he stops with one glance at me and gestures at the chair I’ve vacated instead.
“I’m sorry,” she says, still clutching that nano-tech garb. “I needed the restroom.”
Lie.
At first, I’m not sure how my beast knows that. Then I realize I can hear her pulse as if it’s a frequency my ears have tuned into. And it’s fast. Not terrified-fast, but nervous-fast. A slight elevation, which means…
She’s lying.
Grace came up here to hear what we were saying. To get ahead of any decisions we might try to make on her behalf, which is a pretty bold move for a woman who literally wasn’t allowed to be seen or heard an hour ago.
She is tenacious. The beast and I agree about that. This is a woman unafraid to take her fate into her own hands. She will be an excellent mate, that voice in my head whispers.
“Why, exactly, shouldn’t we worry about Meshach finding out you’re here?” Sotelo asks.
I watch from the galley as Grace sinks into my chair, and the garment she drapes over her lap makes her lower half oddly invisible and…shimmery. “Because I won’t be here for long. I assume you’re going to make a supply run before you get started on the job, with the per diem he paid in advance?”
Sotelo nods. That was the whole point of asking for operating costs up front.
“Once Meshach realizes I’m gone, he’ll suspect I snuck onto your ship, and he’ll follow you. So, you just let him search your shuttle, when you stop for supplies, and when he doesn’t find me, you’ll be in the clear.”
The captain frowns. “And he won’t find you because…?”
“Because the minute you dock, I’ll sneak off of your ship and onto another.”
I swallow a growl of protest and drink more water.
“Grace— What’s your surname?” Dreyer asks, and Sotelo stands to help Lilli through the hatch in the floor.
“I don’t have one.” Grace shrugs again. “Women on Gebose aren’t given a surname until they marry. If they marry.”
“That’s so messed up.” Lilli takes the canister of powdered chocolate milk I left on the galley counter and mixes a couple of scoops in a glass with some water.
“Anyway,” Dreyer continues. “Grace, if you really think Meshach will come after you, we can’t just abandon you at some refueling port.”
“You wouldn’t be abandoning me—”
“No.” I clutch the edge of the short length of countertop to anchor myself in place. To keep my feet from carrying me to her. My hands from clutching her close. From scaring the shit out of her.
Dreyer gives me a concerned look, then she turns a soft smile on our guest. “We couldn’t live with ourselves if anything happened to you. That’s what Coleman means.”
“What about your homeworld?” I let my gaze flick toward Grace as I cross the main deck and sit in front of one of the consoles built into the far wall. “What did you say it was called?” As if I don’t have total recall of every word she’s said in my presence since the moment I found her hiding in the cargo hold.
Theron.
“Theron,” she says. “I do plan to make my way back there, but right now my goal is just to get as far from Meshach as possible.”
Grace doesn’t seem to understand that Meshach Larsen isn’t the only peril out there for a girl as young, beautiful, and innocent as she is. Stowing away on another ship full of strangers could bring her just as much danger as she’d find on Gebose. “Is there anyone on Theron we could reach out to? You said you were raised in a convent?” An archaic organization, if I’ve ever heard of one, but there are several planets that were settled entirely by religious sects, during the Great Expansion. “Like, by nuns?”
“The Sisters of Heavenly Virtue.” Grace’s gaze loses focus as she speaks; she’s clearly seeing her home, rather than our too-small shuttle. “The convent was a beautiful old stone building on a cliff, overlooking the sea. We had gardens and stables. We were virtually self-sufficient.” Her eyes narrow as she squints at whatever she’s remembering. “I was so happy there. I can’t wait to see it again, but—” Her beautiful dark-eyed gaze finds me, and I catch my breath, caught off guard by the intensity of her focus. “But now I have to wonder…”
And suddenly I understand what that sad little dip in her brow means. “Did the sisters sell you to Meshach?” So much for heavenly virtue.
“No. Surely not.” Her forehead furrows as she denies the possibility. “I can’t believe that of any of the sisters. They would never…” But her frown only deepens. “Yet someone must have.”
“You can’t remember?” I find that detail almost as horrifying as the fact that she was sold as a concubine in the first place.
Grace shakes her head, and her gaze falls to the floor between us.
“Okay, everyone else back to work.” Sotelo waves one hand at the crew in general, while his concerned gaze remains on Grace. “Dreyer, reserve us a docking station on Miscellany.”
Dreyer nods as she turns back to her console.
“Zamora, you’re up on the flight controls. Lawrence and Jamison, get some sleep so you can relieve everyone else later.”
While the others go about their assigned tasks, Sotelo gives me a questioning look, with a nod at Grace. Asking me, silently, if I can be trusted with her.
I nod. I only want to help her. And frankly, the sooner we get her off the ship—someplace safe—the sooner my beast can start forgetting about her.
“And you…” Sotelo turns to Lilli. “If you’ve sated your chocolate craving, perhaps you’d like to join me in a nap?”
Sotelo’s not a small guy, and all four of the built-in bunks are single-occupancy. I’ve never understood his desire to close himself into one of those narrow spaces with Lilli, even if their “nap” really is a nap. The very idea used to make me break out in a claustrophobic sweat.
Yet suddenly I want nothing more than to invite Grace into a bunk with me. Fully clothed, if need be. I would put myself on the outside, to protect her from any danger that enters the main hold, and the tight space would ensure that I was pressed against her, even with clothes between us—
Fuck.
I angle my chair toward the console to keep her from seeing the lump in my pants. The rather generous lump.
Well, that’s new…
Take her, that voice in my head whispers. She needs you to claim her.
But that’s a lie. What Grace needs is someone from her past who’s willing to shelter her for a little while, somewhere Meshach won’t think to look for her.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” I press my thumb against my console to unlock it. “I mean, if Meshach knows you’re from Theron, that’ll probably be the first place he looks for you.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know.” Her frown deepens. “I mean, he knows I grew up in a convent, but I don’t think I ever told him the name of it.” She shrugs. “No one ever asked.”
There’s something strangely vague about her story. Something unnerving, that nags at me with every word she says. “Grace how did you get to Gebose?”
“I…” She stares down at her lap, where her hands have begun to twist the nano-tech fabric. “I’m more co
ncerned with where I’m going than where I’ve been.”
“As we all are. But you won’t be safe on Theron if Meshach knows you might go back there. So as unpleasant as this must be, I need you to think about how you wound up on Gebose. What do you remember of your…um…purchase? Where did it take place? Was Meshach there, or did he obtain you through some kind of agent?” Slavery is illegal all over the galaxy, but there are backchannels… “Or possibly an online order?”
Her dark eyes widen until they’re swimming in panic. She squeezes them shut and shakes her head. “I don’t… I can’t remember any of that. I don’t want to remember.”
I feel the weight of Sotelo’s focus, and when I turn, I find his uneasy gaze on us as he helps Lilli into one of the top bunks. I give him a reassuring nod, then I turn back to Grace.
“Okay. There’s no rush,” I tell her. “You can stay with us as long as you want.”
“No, I can’t. He can’t find me here.”
“We’re not afraid of Meshach,” I assure her. She has no way of knowing just how little of a threat he represents to a crew like ours.
“But killing him won’t get us that ship,” Zamora points out.
“Unless you have a fleet, you should be afraid of him,” Grace insists. “If he figures out I’m here, and you refuse to hand me over, he’ll send enough fire power to blow you out of the sky.”
“You think he’ll kill you, if he can’t get you back?” A fresh burst of rage fires through my veins.
She gives me a miserable nod. “Last month, one of the other concubines—my only friend on Gebose—killed herself. Meshach had her body dumped in the swamp without a funeral. He told me that if I wasn’t happy with my station, I should just go ahead and follow her into the swamp, because if I refused his son, he would kill me. That my life would be on Gebose, with Silas, or it would be over. That’s when I knew I had nothing to lose by running. Dying out here isn’t much different from dying in the swamp, right?” Grace shrugs, but the fear in her eyes belies the casual gesture. “At least out here, if I die, I’ll have seen the stars first.”
Fury rages inside me like an ocean battering the seawall, and I can feel my defenses crumble. Protect her, the beast demands.
“Meshach isn’t as stupid as he looks.” Dreyer turns from her console to address Grace. “If he thinks he can’t get you back, he’ll kill you to destroy the evidence of his crime.”
“Crime?” Grace’s brows knit in confusion.
“His holy book may allow for buying concubines, but secular statutes forbid the purchase or unlawful detainment of a human being,” Dreyer explains. “Try though he might to isolate the planet of Gebose, he’s still subject to interplanetary laws. And to the consequence of breaking them.” Her focus finds me. “And no matter what kind of fleet he has, Meshach is no Universal Authority. There’s no way a backwater autocrat has the political connections to cover up his crimes.”
Which means Grace is right. If he can’t get her back, he will blow us out of the sky to kill her.
Zamora swivels in the pilot’s chair to face the rest of us. “If Meshach has that kind of fire power, why does he need us to track down his missing cargo?”
“Because he wields a sledgehammer, not a scalpel,” Sotelo says from the bunk he’s now sharing with Lilly. “He could easily blow up his missing freight, but to recover it intact, he needs people like us. So let’s get that shit done.” With that, Sotelo slides the panel shut, enclosing himself in the bunk with Lilli.
“Okay, let’s see if we can find some place safe for you to stay, at least for a while,” I tell Grace as I turn back to my console and pull up the virtual keyboard on the slanted work surface in front of me. “Maybe seeing pictures will spark a memory. Maybe you’ll be able to remember whether or not the sisters sold you to Meshach. Whether or not it’s safe for you to go home.”
“There’s really no need.” Grace’s gaze jumps all over the main deck, as if she’s too nervous to focus on any one thing. Her right foot begins to tap the floor, bouncing her entire leg. “I don’t really want to go back there anyway.”
“You just said that was your plan,” I remind her. “That you can’t wait to see your home again.”
“Yes, but…” Suddenly Grace looks confused. Then her focus begins bouncing around the main deck again, without ever once settling on my screen. “I didn’t think it through. I hadn’t considered that the sisters might be involved in what happened to me.”
“Let’s find out if that’s true.” I run a search for Sisters of Heavenly Virtue, but there are no results for that exact phrasing. “Grace, are you sure that was the name of the convent? Was there a more official title? Did I get the words out of order?”
Finally, she frowns at my screen for a second before her gaze skips away from the results, the same way my own gaze wants to avoid looking at her nano-tech garment. As if the sight is uncomfortable for her. “No, that’s right,” she says.
So I add the name of her homeworld to the end of the search string and send the request for information out again. Again, I get no results on the exact search string.
I try one more time, narrowing the search to just her homeworld. The results come back immediately. “Grace.” I tap the screen, drawing her gaze to it.
She frowns, and her eye twitches, as if it’s a struggle for her to focus on what she’s reading. Is that some kind of conditioning? Was she forbidden to use tech, on Gebose? “What does that mean?”
I exhale. “That means that there’s no such place as the planet Theron.”
4
GRACE
I BLINK at Coleman’s screen. I don’t understand what I’m reading. What he’s saying. “That isn’t possible. I’ve been there. I grew up there. Theron exists.”
“Yet somehow, there isn’t a single mention of it online. Theron isn’t registered with the Intergalactic coalition, which just isn’t possible, if it exists. There’s no record of the terraforming process during or after the Great Expansion. No mention of land grants or purchases. No governing body or elections. Theron isn’t importing or exporting any goods. It’s never been listed as a travel destination. And not one person in the entire galaxy has listed the planet Theron as their homeworld.”
I glance at the screen, but then I turn away again. Looking at it is giving me a headache. “I’m sorry. We didn’t have online resources or even much tech at the convent. I guess we were a little isolated. A little old-fashioned. Gebose has a lot of tech, but women aren’t allowed to use communication devices.” I shrug. “They have no need for it.”
Only that isn’t true, is it? If I’d had access to a com console—or even a personal com device—I might have been able to arrange for my own ride off the planet, with my stolen credit vouchers. I might not have had to put this crew in danger.
I might have known that returning to Theron is evidently going to be…complicated.
“So I’m not sure I understand what you’re telling me,” I confess. “Did someone erase all mentions of Theron? Can that be done?”
“That would be very complicated, but I suppose it’s possible,” Coleman admits. “In the sense that anything’s possible. Yet it’s highly, highly improbable.” He seems to truly regret having to give me bad news. “The simpler explanation is that there is no information about your homeworld because it never existed.”
“How is that a simpler explanation? It exists. It’s where I come from. The Sisters of—”
“Holy Virtue. I know.” He gestures at his screen again. “They don’t seem to exist either.”
“Well, that’s some kind of mistake.” How could my entire life simply not exist?
“Maybe it is.” But Coleman doesn’t seem to believe that, despite his kind nod. “Why don’t you tell me everything you remember, and I’ll search for the details. If someone has somehow erased Theron from existence online, they can’t possibly have gotten every single mention. Every reference. Where is your homeworld? What sector of the galaxy?”
/>
“I…” I frown, staring down at my hands when the screen exacerbates my headache. My eyes don’t seem to want to focus on it. “I don’t know. I never studied interplanetary geography.”
“That’s okay. We’ll attack it from another angle.” Coleman types something on his virtual keyboard, and the words disappear from his screen, leaving only a blinking cursor. “How many moons does Theron have? What other planets are on the horizon?”
“One moon.” I close my eyes and picture the night sky, from my childhood. “No other visible planets. Just lots of stars. I guess we were…isolated.”
“What was the name of the star at the center of your system?”
I shrug. “The sun? That’s all we called it.”
“Um…” Coleman frowns at Zamora, clearly at a loss. “Oh!” His golden eyes light up again. “What kinds of ships landed at the convent? Long-range cruisers, or just short-range ships? Or maybe mostly docking shuttles, from ships too big to land? That’ll tell us whether or not you had any close neighbors.”
I close my eyes again, trying to picture the grounds of the convent. I remember tennis courts. A clean, clear lake for swimming. A flat, even lawn for yard games. A huge garden full of herbs and vegetables and another full of flowers. But… “I don’t remember seeing any ships. Or even a landing pad.”
“How is that possible?” Coleman looks worried now, his eyes narrowed in a cautious kind of skepticism.
“Did you live on another planet, or in another time period?” Zamora asks.
I cock my head at him. “What does that mean?”
“What Thiago is trying to say, in his tactless manner,” Coleman explains, drawing my attention with a patient gaze. “Is that life on Theron seems more like life on pre-space travel Earth than like any modern existence we’ve ever heard of. I mean, Gebose keeps itself pretty isolated from the interplanetary community, but even they have landing pads for ships. And an entire fleet, evidently. And I’m guessing Meshach’s people know the name of their sun.”
“I…” My cheeks grow warm. I can feel their attention on me like an expectant weight, and I have to fight the urge to hide beneath my modesty sheath. “I knew life was different on Gebose than at the convent, but I hadn’t realized my upbringing was so very odd, on a larger scale.”
Vendetta (Project Vetus Book 2) Page 5