Shadows and Stars

by Becca Fanning

  “Sorry—did I strike an allergy-tickled nerve?” His eyes gleamed, and his apparent amusement only brought more static buzzing through her.

  She steeled herself against another sneeze until her eyes watered, then she shook her head. The creeping, crawling irritation under her skin brought a wave of reminders of spells gone awry because of the distraction of a sudden itch or sneeze she couldn’t stifle.

  “Not at all. I can’t imagine you’d know the difference between a therapist and a hooker because I have no doubt your claims of experience—no, expertise—as a lurve machine are much exaggerated.” She plucked the lemon wedge from the edge of his glass and bit into the flesh as she wrinkled her nose again.

  His gaze danced over her face, and his eyes flashed with either amusement or danger…or desire.

  She shivered a little in the warm room.

  “Just let it go, silly girl. Sneezes are like orgasms. An unstoppable force—though hardly a…delight.” He watched another drip making its way back to his drink from his nail, apparently bored with their conversation.

  But she knew better. Two could play at his games. “Whatcha drinkin’, my vampire friend?” She cooed the words as she twirled her hair around her finger in a playful gesture designed to annoy him as much as he’d irritated her, and nearly let loose a giggle as his expression turned sour.

  “My drink.”

  “Which is…?”

  His eyes flared red for a second at her words. “Something you wouldn’t like.”

  Oh, he tried to distract her, she’d give him that, as he lowered his eyebrows in some parody of ‘sexy’…and, dammit, her body tried to respond. Pushing away a flicker of don’t-even-want-to-think-about-it, she shifted in her chair and cleared her throat for battle. “You mistake my love of tomatoes.”

  He bumped his fist against the table. “Keep your voice down, angelcakes. Can’t a man abide by his principles in peace?”

  Glancing out at the dark sky and the pin-prick stars stretching into the unknown distance, she sighed. “A man, Vincent? I thought you’d got over that pipe dream.” She kept her tone lightly scathing, but sympathy warred with good old stomach-flipping desire as she watched him.

  “I am a man.” He ground out the words.

  La-la-la…her internal monologue sang loudly enough that she didn’t have to consider just how much of a man. Who knew when Vincent had moved from years-dead best friend to someone who could draw a blush from her just by meeting her eyes. It wasn’t a welcome change, so she remained doggedly on his case, instead.

  “You’re a vegan vampire, trapped on an old heap of a space station for maybe the rest of your days. That’s a long time.” She spared a look for his tomato juice. “Although maybe not quite so long if you were to give in to your basic instincts and get rid of anyone who annoyed you—which is everyone. At least then you’d be alone with your indignity and plant-based thirst-quenchers.”

  He let loose a short, mirthless laugh. “Just me, you, and tomatoes. And you’re a witch who can’t do magic without sneezing and breaking out in an itchy rash.” He shrugged at her, his grin rueful. “What a pair we make.”

  What a pair indeed.

  Ripping her attention from him, and the unintended promise in his words, she observed the rest of the bustling space.. Behind the bar, Geraldine adjusted the silicone chicken fillets in her bra as she moved between serving drinks and shouting food orders through to the cook in the back. Occasionally, she also rearranged the bulge at the front of her skirt, and Penny bit back a smile. The seam on tights, and the fact it forced her to hang one way or the other, had always bugged Geraldine, but she’d recently confided she wasn’t ready for the experience of stockings.

  “You know…”

  Penny swung her attention back to Vincent as he started to speak.

  “If anyone could do with some therapy, it’s her.” He nodded at Geraldine.

  Penny nearly choked on the swig she’d just stolen from his tomato juice. “I don’t think I’m the kind of therapist she needs, and she’s certainly not my…type.”

  Vincent raised one of his perfect eyebrows but said nothing.

  “Oh, come on!” Her outrage attracted the attention of other patrons, and she lowered her voice for the second time. “I work with men.”

  His eyebrow remained cocked.

  In answer to his continued silence, she spoke again. “After all, when they brought us in two by two, Geraldine is the only one who came in on her own.”

  He laughed. “What, you don’t like Gerald?”

  “Put it this way, Geraldine having two personalities is not really a plus for any of us.”

  “Very diplomatic.” He threw her a crooked grin and downed the rest of his drink before he grimaced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ugh. Have we got a date at the same time tomorrow, dollface?”

  She stifled a shudder. “Not if Gerald’s in charge. We’ll see.”

  “Good shout. The less time I spend with that homophobic wannabe-militia man, the better.” He lowered his voice to a near-whisper that sent a delicious tickle over her ear. “Why do you think they even keep him on board?”

  She drew back as she looked at him. “Why would you even ask that? They can’t do anything to Gerald without hurting Geraldine.”

  He scoffed. “I didn’t mean they should launch him or anything. Jettisoning that son-of-a-bee would be too good for him." Vincent’s mouth was set, his brow stern as he glared in the direction of the bar.

  Penny cast him a sideways glance, trying not to admire his profile. “C’mon. You look like you’ve had enough to drink tonight.” Who knew tomatoes could turn a vampire into such a grump?

  “Maybe I should leave a polite note for Gerald, or something. About his behaviour. It creates a bad atmosphere.”

  “And do what? Ask him to change his ways? Besides, you’d do untold damage to Geraldine. She has no idea he exists. Leave her alone. She’s never hurt you. Neither has Gerald, come to think of it. What’s your beef-steak with him tonight?”

  Vincent’s ears pinked slightly. “Can’t we just say his philosophy hurts my heart?”

  “And now you’re getting poetic. I think you need some vampire refresher lessons—specifically about how your heart no longer beats, and how you’re supposed to drink blood.” She tugged his sleeve. “Come on. I’ll walk you home, little lady.”

  The brushed-metal, grey walls of the corridor stretched endlessly as they made their way to the living quarters. They were all like ants co-habiting in a giant tin-can nest.

  “So, we need to get you a new job, then.” Vincent nodded decisively.

  “Oh, no…new job…I’m not sure. I mean, I like what I do.” Penny bit her fingernail as she finished.

  “You like sex? Or you like doing nothing? Because one of those we all like, and one of them you definitely don’t need to get paid for.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  His tone softened, and he skimmed a touch over her arm. “I’m serious. Think of all the other things you could do. You could work on Ark? You could work on Desert? You could work up on Commerce?”

  She ticked off the list on her fingers. “One, I don’t like animals enough to help the pairs breed; two, I don’t have any desire to learn about engines and boiler rooms or sweat gallons each day down on the lower levels; three, I don’t enjoy the great unwashed.”

  “In that case, here’s a thought.”

  She paused and looked at him.

  “Could that last point be the reason you haven’t been a roaring success as a sex therapist?”

  “You know, Vincent, it would be worth a week of hives to turn you into a frog.” The magic crackled into her flexing fingers even as she spoke.

  He laughed and grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to each finger-tip. “And you know I kid, sweetheart.” He shrugged, the movement Gallic and full of unspoken words. “But, really, how can you expect to instruct people in the finer points of a good sex life if most of them are still wande
ring around trying to find their other half? You’ve missed the whole first stage of a relationship—the chase.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she processed his words. “I never even thought of that.” But she should have. What kind of therapist forgot the ritual of dating and anticipation rising to such heat levels, clothes practically melt off on their own? She gave her head a brief shake. The Penny kind forgot, apparently—the sort of self-styled therapist more used to putting sex first.

  Not for the first time, she missed earth. With hindsight, life had been easier, then. She combed her memories, taking mental inventory of her fellow passengers. They’d all adapted since arrival, and now, at last, tolerated each other. She squashed a grin at a memory of her arrival on The Salvation.

  Because they'd all been crammed into the confines of a tiny shuttle, in the initial chaos of boarding, everyone had scattered to the furthest corners of the ancient space station and hunkered down. So many people from so many places. For the first week, Penny had hidden in the first room she’d found with a window and bathroom, desperate to recover her privacy and reinvent herself.

  Outside, Earth had grown smaller and smaller until it turned into a pin-prick of light that finally flickered out as they continued their journey away.

  The idea of finding, or enjoying, the company of anyone else—even the other member of her own species—in those early days still made her shudder as she relived the trauma of rubbing up against so many sweaty bodies. At least she hoped most of it was sweat.

  Since then, creating a life and job for herself had taken all her attention. She spared a glance to her right. Well, except Vincent, who claimed at least his fair share of her time. He’d been the first person she held a conversation with after she emerged from her seclusion, and she still hadn’t told him to go away.

  “How far do you think they’re sending us? What if we’re on a one-way trip to nowhere?” The urge to interweave her fingers with his rose strongly, but she resisted.

  “Huh?” Vincent startled as though she’d interrupted an important thought about something else. “Who knows? And we can’t do anything about it. We’re certainly not in England, anymore, Esmerelda. But don’t think about that, now. We’re thinking about your next job.” Vincent dismissed the change in her train of thought with an airy wave of his hand. “So, anyway, as I was saying. You’ve got lots of people on this floating hunk of junk, and none of them are together. Or even practising the horizontal lambada. They need an intervention.”

  “An intervention?” Dragging her mind from their future, she stopped in the corridor and faced him. “What has that got to do with good sex?”

  “Well, duh.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “People is people, babe. When there are two, there is sex.” He leant his head to one side as if considering something. “Two, three, four even. One can work in a pinch, but definitely, two is the best start.”

  “I’m glad to see you’ve got the mechanics down after all these years, Vincent. I must be starting to rub off on you, after all.” She nodded as she spoke, and patted his butt. “If there’s anything else you think you might need help with, you know where to find me.”

  He drew his brows together. “I’m not in need of your services because I’m not in the habit of paying for my pleasure. But feel free to rub off on me anytime.” His pupils dilated as he spoke, and his gaze intensified.

  She shook her head. “That mind thing still doesn’t work on me, you know. ‘Look deep into my eyes…’” she monotoned.

  “Whatever. I could have you in my bed if I wanted to.”

  Fighting against herself, she started to walk away, but maybe added a tiny extra roll of her hips to crank things up to a low-level sashay. He just didn’t know when to give up. Although she wasn’t sure she wanted him to, and she allowed herself an inner preen in the glow of his flirting but no peeping to see where his gaze landed as she exited stage left.

  Suddenly right beside her, Vincent took her arm and brought her against his chest. “It’s just that now isn’t the right time for us, kitten.” He’d lowered his voice as he stroked her hair, and she pouted a little at his attempt to soothe her while she calmed her wild heartbeat from his use of vampire-speed.

  “It never is, and it never will be.” Her dramatic sigh of frustration covered her reluctance to step out of his casual embrace. “But before I go, what’s your big idea for my career break, then?”

  A grin drew his lips across his face.

  “Oh God, Vincent. You look like a cross between a freaky clown and someone with their face slashed open when you do that. Stop it right now.” A shudder worked through her as she spoke.

  “Fine. I won’t smile.” He huffed out a breath as his mouth formed a comedy pucker instead. “But, my thought is this: if you want to be a sex therapist”—he flicked lint from his sleeve, as if the idea disinterested him completely—“you need failing but willing couples, so you’re going to need to start at the beginning. In fact—” He stopped and tapped his chin. “What you really need is failing but willing and attractive couples. You know—for your marketing brochure. For when you get far enough to put the sex classes to use.”

  “My marketing brochure? Sex classes? Vincent, wha—”

  “Yes, yes. I’m getting to that. Patience, young warted one. What you need, is a….” He stood motionless as though about to announce the winner of the talent contest.

  “A what?” She grabbed his chin and directed his eyes back to her face. “Look deep into my eyes…”

  He shook free. “You need a dating agency.”

  “Perfect, just perfect. And where am I going to find one of those?” She concentrated on pouring enough heat into her stare to fry him. At least a little sizzle of the hair on his forearms.

  “Exactly, my fine English rose, and this is where I personally put the ‘penis’ in genius.” As he slung his arm over her shoulders and led her further along the corridor, she closed her eyes against the sudden image in her mind. “There isn’t one yet that I know of, and—believe me—I would know. I think you should start one and get matching.”

  “‘Penis’ in genius? What are you on about?” Her cheeks heated and she blinked several times, but her flickering eyelids only seared the image of Vincent’s pe…genius to her brain.

  “Seriously? That’s all you got from that? I was giving you an idea for a business.”

  “Hmm, well, I’ll have to consider it.” She lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug and his face fell.

  They reached his door, and he pressed his thumb against the print-activated lock. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure what I’m doing. I’ll be in touch.”

  A small light—hope? Hunger?—dimmed in his gaze. “Only if it’s not too much trouble or anything.” He yawned, and she noticed the fatigue lurking in his eyes.

  “Go and get some rest.” Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his cold cheek, and he smiled.

  “See, I’ve still got it. You want me.” He swung his door open and stepped into his windowless chamber.

  Something crashed inside his room, and she peered over his shoulder.

  “Did you sneak a pet from Ark level, Vincent?”

  “No, I knocked something over. Can’t see a thing in here. It’s too dark.” His eyes grew wide and innocent.

  She nodded, but as she bobbed to her left for another look into his room, he weaved to his right as though matching her in a choreographed routine. The sight of his lips so close to her own slowed time and sucked her breath from her. “Need some help with the mess?” As she forced the shaky words out, a shadow detached itself from just behind Vincent before it slid further into the room and disappeared completely in the dark. “Wait…have you got a girl in there?” The sort of jealous tingle she usually only reserved for hot guys, and movie star goddesses surviving on a diet of chocolate, shot through her.

  He laughed but the forced sound held none of his usual amusement. �
�The chance’d be a fine thing, babe. I don’t think you’ve ever stepped foot over the threshold.” His arms, held wide in a parody of humility, blocked her from seeing anything further through the doorway.

  She choked on a fake chuckle as she gave his upper arm a light punch. “Because best friends don’t let best friends lure each other into their rooms, Vincent.”

  He puffed out a dramatic sigh. “I’ll be the first name on your dating agency client list at this rate. Now, off you go, home to bed and the land of zeds. See you tomorrow.” Leaning forward, he air-kissed at each of her cheeks. “Ciao bella, my beautiful lady.”

  She didn’t bother to reply as she spun and retraced her steps through the living quarters of the night dwelling creatures in the direction of her room. She glanced around. Ugh. Being in the dimly lit, windowless middle of the station always propelled her to walk a bit faster. She clutched the edges of her lightweight cardigan and drew it more tightly around herself.

  “In a hurry?” A voice oozed from the shadows, and she stopped before she could do the sensible thing and pick up her pace even further.

  “Who’s there?”

  As she turned around, she already knew, and it was no surprise when Gerald stepped away from the wall.

  “Hello, Gerald.” She checked the corridor. Typical. It was deserted. “Did you run out of customers at the bar?”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “I had to get out of there. My friend is too weak to be in public without adequate guidance. Parading around in dresses and makeup. Good job he’s got me, a proper man, to show him the error of his ways. I’ll protect him from evil thoughts and Nancy-boy ways.” He grimaced as he referenced Geraldine, but soon recovered his trademark lecherous smile.

  “Okay. Well, nice to see you. I have to be somewhere”—she made a show of checking her watch—“soon.”

  “Not so fast, not so fast.” He cupped her elbow, drawing her closer, his fingers tightening in an iron shackle. “Anyone would think you don’t want to spend any time with me. And after I saved your worthless little life by offering you a chance in my Utopia. I hand-picked you to survive, and now you owe me.”