Nightchaser

by Amanda Bouchet

  And that he would like it.

  I moaned and kissed him like I was freaking dying for it—which I was. For seven years, I hadn’t had the slightest interest in a man. Not sexually, at least. But then Shade had looked me up and down with his honey-brown eyes, said he was checking me over for weapons, and I’d started falling for him right then and there in his dusty, overstocked shop.

  I’d only known him for a few days, but I’d been waiting forever for this kiss. I wanted more than a kiss from Shade; I was so ready. I hooked my leg around his hip and tilted my pelvis up, finally getting a good feel of his hard length. He pressed against me, almost thrusting. Heat sizzled low in my belly and flared between my legs. My head dropped back against the wall, and I gulped down a breath.

  Shade trailed scorching, openmouthed kisses along my throat. “Holy shit, you’re like chaos in skin.”

  A splash of cold hit the fever inside me. We were taught to like and value order, restraint. I’d thought he was like me, but maybe I was too wild and impulsive for him?

  “Too chaotic?” I asked.

  “Fucking perfect.” His hands dove into my open vest, and he palmed my breasts. He lifted them, bent his head, and rubbed his face along the twin curves he’d plumped up.

  Rub. Kiss. Lick. Holy fuck.

  Little-used muscles clenched, and my breath shortened to pants.

  Shade’s light stubble scraped my skin. He grunted something I didn’t understand. Freckles, maybe. I had a few. Whatever he said was husky and low and got lost in a haze of lust. My nipples hardened under his hands, and he gently squeezed, his mouth moving along the scooped neckline of my shirt.

  I held on to his head, clamping him to me. I never wanted him to stop. I wanted him to touch me higher. Lower. Everywhere.

  Shade kissed my chest and collarbone, my throat and the soft underside of my chin. His hands skimmed my ribs, falling to my hips, and then his lips were on mine again, yielding but firm, his tongue in my mouth, and we both made a needy sound that was volcanically hot.

  I pulled him closer. He ground against me. It was both torment and relief.

  A double pair of footsteps rang out on the avenue close to the intersection, and we sprang apart, both of us breathing hard. If we didn’t stop, someone was sure to report us, and that would send the Dark Watch roaring back. No matter how good it felt, or how much I wanted to continue, a bout of deliciously crazy public indecency could get me into a whole lot of trouble.

  I tucked my still-damp hair behind my ears, my voice coming out like a scratch. “I should get off the streets.”

  Shade nodded, his eyes on my face. He looked incredibly tense. Did he regret kissing me and feeling us both ignite?

  The footsteps drew closer, and Shade held out his hand. Instinctively, I took what he offered, and he led me down the darker cross street and away from the main thoroughfare. His hand was warm, the skin a little rough, and I loved having it around mine. It was too bad I couldn’t hold on to him for more than a few days.

  My spirits sank. Dangerous thoughts, Tess.

  There was no settling down for me yet. I had things to do. People to help. Right now, stopping the illness at the orphanage was my priority, followed closely by deciding what to do with those enhancers. I couldn’t get complacent and stay in one place just because there was a man who turned me into a raging inferno and made me want to jump into his bed.

  My body talked back—loudly—still all warm and wound up. Parts of me, both in my head and decidedly not in my head, wanted to stay on Albion 5 and see what could happen with Shade.

  If anything. Maybe that kiss had been it.

  Or maybe there could be more—just short-lived.

  My spirits sank even further. Neither possibility was my first choice.

  I glanced at Shade as we walked. It had been pretty obvious that first day in his shop that I needed to avoid the Dark Watch, which explained his tactics tonight, but not much else.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “I live nearby.”

  “And you just happened to run into me on the street? Literally?” What were the chances of that?

  He shrugged, and I stopped.

  “Shade?”

  He dropped my hand and turned to me, scrubbing the back of his neck. “I followed you from Susan’s. You said something about the book drop-off today, and I wanted to make sure you got back all right.”

  My heart started pounding like a heavy-armor hammer trying to break through my ribs. “You were worried about me?”

  “You’re carrying my money,” he grumbled, starting to walk again. “Already paid for that door.”

  He had my door!

  Wait. He had my door.

  He’d fix it, along with the remaining holes in the Endeavor, and then I’d fly off this rock.

  “That’s, ah…great news,” I said, thinking I should have meant it.

  He didn’t respond.

  “It’s creepy to follow women, you know.”

  He slanted me an odd look. “Maybe I’m a sketchy bastard.”

  I didn’t believe that, especially with Susan vouching for him. “You could have just walked with me.” I took his hand back, because I was a numbskull like that. “I don’t bite.”

  What seemed like a wry huff escaped him. “Actually, I kind of hope you do.”

  My pulse bucked, and my lower abdomen tightened, flooding with heat again.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, looking around us after I’d caught my breath once more. My attention had been so focused on Shade that I hadn’t realized until right then that I didn’t recognize a single thing about the area.

  “It’s a shortcut,” he answered, leading me toward a dimly lit tunnel under a docking tower that soared so high I couldn’t see the top. The network of darkened platforms rose straight up until it faded into the night. “To your ship,” he added.

  I bit my lip. That was disappointing. I’d begun hoping we were heading for his place.

  A whole lot of awkward silence went by.

  Oh, screw it. “No one’s expecting me back right away,” I said.

  Shade eventually responded with a soft grunt. In the end, I thought it was just to acknowledge that he’d heard me. He didn’t look at me or take me up on anything, even though I’d thought that was a pretty clear invitation to resume our earlier activities.

  Confused and stung, I let his hand drop. I didn’t understand, and I definitely wasn’t used to putting myself out there like that, despite apparently going full throttle whenever I was with Shade. Our kiss had initially been a ruse to trick the Dark Watch, but he’d seemed just as into it as I’d been, especially the second part, after we’d ducked around the corner. But now, it was as though he’d taken a cold shower, while I was still hot, hot, hot.

  “Did you take a shower?” he asked.

  Shit. Had I said something about showers out loud? I didn’t think so.

  “Yeah. At Susan’s. She’s really nice.”

  “You smell like peaches.” Shade glanced over at me. “I fucking love peaches. Best fruit in the galaxy.”

  He took my hand back, and just like that, I felt better again. I had to duck my head to hide my smile, and the silence that stretched between us after that didn’t seem so awkward anymore.

  Worry still niggled at me as we made our way toward the Endeavor, and I finally recognized some landmarks. I was starting to think that numbskull wasn’t even the half of it. It was a little scary how this man I barely knew was starting to hold sway over my emotions and occupy my thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, having to get off Albion 5 in a rush.

  And then maybe I could stop wondering why Shade looked like he wanted to consume me one moment, and then scowled so grimly the next.

  Chapter 15

  The next day, Shade showed up with the sunrise a
gain, bringing his equipment up the Squirrel Tree on a loaded-down, front-opening hover crate. He supervised while some people from a delivery service dropped off the rest of the reinforced metal tiles we needed as well as the new—and significantly upgraded—armored door. They took care of the initial setup and heavy lifting on the door, and Shade, in definite need of Jax’s special brew, watched and directed from behind his dark sunglasses, slowly sipping coffee from the mug I’d brought outside for him.

  Shade had already paid for everything, and when I tried to pay him back, at least for the door, with the money Susan had given me the night before, he just shook his head.

  “Hold on to it for now,” he said. “I’ll tally it all up when the work is done.”

  I put the universal currency back into my pocket with a shrug. “That seems awfully generous for a self-proclaimed space rogue.”

  “Like I said, I’m a successful space rogue.”

  “Ah, that’s right. SRP. Wouldn’t a successful space rogue take the money as soon as it was offered? I’d figured there was a bit of being mercenary involved.”

  “Maybe.” He sipped his coffee. “But there’s no rush. A few days won’t make a difference.”

  They did to some people. Maybe my hunch about Shade having family money was correct. Or maybe he made a bunch of money doing whatever else it was he did. One thing was for sure: he didn’t open up about his work.

  “So, Mr. Phenom, do you often take on odd jobs like this?”

  He looked over at me, his eyes hidden and his expression inscrutable. “No.”

  I heated up from the inside out, even though I shouldn’t have read anything into what he’d just said. Little starbursts still exploded in my stomach. “Are you a sucker for a damsel in distress, then?” I asked.

  He slipped off his dark glasses. “Is that what you are?” His brown eyes were intense, too serious, when I’d just been trying to tease.

  Obviously, I was bad at it.

  I shook my head. “I always land on my feet.” Just like Bonk.

  I glanced toward the Endeavor, all beat up but still the best ship ever. “Or fly away to fight another day.”

  “Fight for what, Tess?”

  Crap. I needed to shut up. “Nothing. Just joking around.”

  Shade’s eyes lasered in on the small scar on my chin. “You throw an okay punch.”

  “I missed.”

  “I ducked.”

  I scoffed. “It’s the same thing, Shade.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” He went back to watching the workmen fit the armored door into place. Shade would see to the finishing touches and electrical connections, but he needed both the extra manpower and their machinery to haul the massive parts up and fit them into the recessed holding slots.

  “But your technique needs work.” He turned back to me, bringing up my mediocre punches again. “I could give you a few pointers later on. I’ve got gloves and a big mat under my shop.”

  My pulse rocketed off into space. Work up a sweat with Shade in his private basement? Yes, please.

  I pretended to think about it, then casually said, “Sure. Sounds great.”

  He nodded.

  My heart pounded. Was that a date?

  “I’m licensed in three different types of self-defense,” he added. “Maybe I can teach you something useful for all that not fighting you might be doing another day.”

  I arched both brows. Clearly, I was as transparent as my punches. But I’d been pretty straight with Shade, and it didn’t take a genius to look at my torn-up ship and sense that I was in deep shit. His offer just meant he wanted to make sure I could take care of myself. But anything that made my heart flutter the way it did right now… I’d call that a date.

  Shade got straight to work as soon as everything was set up and the door people had left, recruiting Jax’s help to hoist some of the heavier tiles into place. He was mostly grunts and grumbles after that and totally focused on the repairs. My usefulness ended at handing Shade a blowtorch once and tossing a water bottle up to Jax. I seemed pretty superfluous to the entire operation and was getting sunburned to boot, so I finally told them to just shout if they needed me and went back inside to check on Fiona’s progress with my blood.

  I found her in her lab—nothing surprising there. She was humming, though, which had to have been a first.

  “Good mood?” I asked.

  “This stuff is fan-freaking-tastic,” she answered without looking up. “I need more as soon as possible. I was about to go find you and ask for it.”

  “No problem,” I said with significantly more casualness than I felt. I was pretty conflicted about sticking myself again. “How many bags?”

  “Five?” Fiona glanced at me over her shoulder. “You said there was more, right?”

  I nodded, but wow, five was a lot. I wasn’t sure how to explain not bringing them all at once, though, so I would probably just need to drink a lot of water and then go buy myself a steak. I knew from experience that I had a higher tolerance than most people for how much blood I could lose, and luckily, bag size had diminished over the years. I could do five without going into shock. I wasn’t so sure about remaining conscious, though.

  Moving farther into Fiona’s lab, I approached her workstation for a better look at what she was doing. I saw red-dotted microscope slides, test tubes full of blood, and a pile of scribbled notes that looked totally indecipherable to me. Science had never been my thing.

  I leaned my hip against the metal table, feeling its coolness through my pants. “So, what’ve you found?” I asked.

  “It’s definitely pure organic,” she said.

  “Pure organic,” I echoed. Well, that sounded good. Not souped-up or anything. “And?”

  “And the super soldier serum was mixed with a ton of chemical crap to boost strength and stamina. This is just blood. It’s got all the same ingredients as regular human blood.”

  Could that be true? Could that be all? Then what the hell had my whole childhood been about?

  “But…” she said, drawing out the word.

  My stomach clenched, and words like freak and foreign and guinea pig shrieked through my head. “But what?” I cautiously asked.

  “The proportions are all off.”

  It was easy to act clueless. I was different; that was all I’d ever been told until the day my father decided he’d had enough of my oddities—and my defiance—and threw me out with the space trash.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “White blood cells usually only account for about one percent of our total blood volume. The percentage goes up a bit when you’re sick, to fight infection, but then it goes back to normal again. It’s just a small, albeit important, part of our blood. In this”—Fiona picked up a test tube and swirled the crimson liquid around—“the percentage is up to nearly eighteen. That’s huge. Like mega, massively huge.”

  “Holy Sky Mother,” I breathed out. No wonder my father had called me a freak. And no wonder I never got sick. I was a walking immune system.

  “Where do you think it comes from?” I asked. “You know, the origin of it?” I dreaded her answer. I was also dying to hear it, to finally know something.

  “Human,” she said immediately. “Granted, my equipment isn’t the most sophisticated available, but the only difference I see is this increased white-blood-cell count. It’s healthy, normal blood. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  For the first time in my life, I understood the idea of going weak-kneed with relief.

  “In terms of the illness on Starway 8, what can we do with it?” I asked, trying not to get my hopes up. “Do you think it would be safe to inject? The imbalance wouldn’t hurt someone else?”

  “In large doses, like a blood transfusion, it might be hard for a person to adjust. But…” Her green eyes lit up as she drew out the wo
rd again. “Give me a few more days, and I might have a shot that’ll kick that virus in the butt.”

  * * *

  I made sandwiches for the men outside and then let Bonk out onto the platform for a quick romp in the sun. When he got tired of sniffing around, I took him in and then headed back to the kitchen for my own lunch with Miko and Shiori. I told them about Fiona’s experiments and asked Miko to set a course for the orphanage. I wanted the coordinates programmed in so that we could make the jump to Sector 8 the second the Endeavor was ready for space travel again.

  Neither of them looked all that eager about returning to the Dark, and I ignored the pang in my chest when I thought about flying away from Albion 5—and Shade Ganavan.

  Procrastinating because I dreaded drawing my own blood again, I cleaned up the kitchen with Miko’s help and then checked in with Mareeka, who responded that the situation was getting steadily worse on Starway 8, although the Dark Watch hadn’t imposed a quarantine yet.

  Vomiting. Kids can’t keep fluids down. Dehydration. Fevers.

  Apparently, she’d hit the whole place with a massive round of strong antibiotics as a last resort, but it hadn’t done a thing.

  It’s viral, she wrote. Surral is working hard. She sends her love. Coltin is okay for now.

  I closed my eyes, picturing the handsome little boy. My heart always ached when I thought about him, and my fingers curled, as though trying to hold on to the feel of soft baby fuzz on a tiny head. That sensation was just a memory now, like Coltin’s first tooth popping through, his gurgling laugh, or his chubby, spit-wet fingers grabbing on to my hair and pulling hard.

  He didn’t need a replacement mother anymore. Our relationship had turned into something more like siblings, even though there were fifteen years between us in age, and I only saw him a few times a year.

  Coltin is okay for now…

  My lunch soured in my stomach. How long would he resist? How many were struggling?

  It was time to suck it up and do my part, so I made my way toward the vacuum-sealed lab attachment at the back of the Endeavor.