“All right,” he says, settling himself on a luxurious chair at the flight desk. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
He gestures to a chair further away from the controls, but no less comfortable-looking. I sit.
“I’m told that I need to take you off-world,” he continues. “So that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Why?” I sweep my hands through my hair, partly because I’m nervous and partly to pull it back off my face. “Who told you that? Why would you need to take me off-world?” I begin to panic about out-of-galaxy torture centers and execution ranges. “That sounds like you have me down for something serious. I have traffic violations, not murder charges.”
“You have forty-two violations. That’s pretty serious.”
“They’re all minor crimes! Not big-ass felonies. Nothing to justify taking me to one of those… far away places.”
“You’re admitting to the forty-two violations now?”
“No!” I sigh exasperatedly. “We’re going around in circles. I did not do any of that. Except for the Drancolia parking thing, like I said. And the, uh, the juvenile record. Just those two. Nothing else. I just meant… oh, never mind.”
A screen emerges from the flight desk and he touches it lightly a few times with the fingertips of both hands, like he’s playing a piano. Immediately, the engine starts.
“Sit back,” he tells me.
The safety belts engage, much more smoothly than on my ship. I feel slightly guilty for being so impressed with another ship’s algorithms. Poor Neela does her best. I’ll be extra nice to her once I get back on board my own ship and restart the mainframe.
Please let me get back to my own ship, I silently beg the universe.
I’m not sure how it works but we somehow manage to launch into space, despite our ship having been inside a sealed room on another ship. Imperial Order skills, man. These guys are smooth operators.
After a few minutes of flying, I decide it’s a good time to ask more questions.
“Prince Jalton, you have to tell me why you were told to take me off-world.” I smile sweetly. “Uh, please.”
He doesn’t reply for a moment. Then he says “No, I don’t.”
“Dude! I mean, Your Highness. This is unfair.”
“It’s just a statement of fact. You said I have to tell you. I don’t have to do anything. I’m a prince.”
He says all this in a calm matter-of-fact way, like he’s telling me the time.
The chip is still hidden safely in my boot, but I don’t know for how much longer. If I don’t tell anyone about it, what if I’m killed?
What if the chip is lost forever?
What if the people depending on me never find out what happened to me? And never get the information I was trusted to bring to them?
I can’t escape this situation. I can’t smuggle the chip out of here, any more than I can fight an Imperial Order shifter. There’s only one course of action I can think of.
What if I confided in the Prince?
Ordinarily, speaking truth to power is my last choice. But I’m down to my last choice right now. Either he’s going to kill me, and it won’t make any difference, or he’s not going to kill me. And if he keeps me alive, there’s maybe a one percent possibility that he’ll help me.
Telling him about the chip is definitely not something I want to do, but it’s all I have. It’s my one backup option. I’ll think about it.
His eyes are still on the navigation screen. I could be doing anything back here. I cast my eyes around for any sign of something I could use as a weapon. Just in case things get nasty. Man, I hope things don’t get nasty.
Plus, would I really want to damage that perfect face of his? Now that really would be a crime.
Silently, I order my ovaries to quit doing the tango just because I’m up close with a handsome man. They’re not helping.
We’re in open space before he swivels his chair back around to face me.
“I’m going to level with you, Commander Frayne.”
“Please do,” I say, fighting to keep the nervous tremor out of my voice.
“I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” He scrutinizes me closely, like he did before, and a flush of warmth creeps over my skin. “Something big.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you were picked up with a frankly ludicrous number of outstanding misdemeanors on your record, which just doesn’t look right.”
“Okay.”
“Because you smell nervous.”
Guess animal shifters have the same super senses as regular animals. I didn’t realize I actually smelled nervous. Sounds kind of gross, really. I shift in my seat, embarrassed in case he thinks I stink. Although why the hell should I care what he thinks? I shouldn’t. But I do.
“Right.”
“And because you’re so jumpy, you look like you’re hiding something.”
“Anything else?” I say, trying to regain a little of my old attitude. It’s not really working, but it’s better than nothing.
“Like what?”
“Any other reason you just know I’m not telling you something? Or should we put it down to good ol’ male intuition?”
“Okay, yes. There’s another reason,” he says, pulling out a slip of paper from his inside pocket. He narrows his eyes at me and pauses just long enough for my heart to start pounding. “It says here that I must kill you. I’m guessing there has to be a good reason for that.”
6 Jalton
She freezes, like a prey animal just before the hunter lands its fatal blow. Then she recovers herself.
“Hell no. Safety harness off.” It springs back automatically, and she seems taken aback that the command worked. She runs to the door and pounds it with her fists. “This is not happening.”
“You realize we’re in space? You really want to open the door?”
She turns, her eyes blazing. “Are you kidding me? You brought me off-world to kill me? You bastard.”
She abandons the door now, launching at me with her fists instead. Pure rage flashes in her eyes. I grab her wrists and hold them up safely over her head. It’s not remotely difficult. Humans are pretty weak, and I include trained fighters in that assessment. This female is stronger than average, I estimate, but her physical force is still nothing compared to mine.
On the other hand, she’s kicking me hard with her heavy boots, and it won’t be long before she lands a blow that makes my eyes water.
“Whoa there, Wildcat. I said the note told me to kill you. I didn’t say I was going to obey it.”
She stops struggling. “What?”
“The note orders today’s inspector to take you off-world and kill you. And what I want to know is: why?”
“Why?”
“Why does the Imperial Order want you dead?”
“I have no freaking idea at all.”
“None?”
“None. I’m innocent. I keep telling you.”
Her arms go limp in my grasp now. I let her hands drop, and she doesn’t try to hit me again.
I look at her closely, noting the way the ship’s artificial light hits the soft angles of her face. “You see, there is something strange about your situation, Corby Frayne. It really doesn’t add up. I don’t see how a lowly Wildcat racked up over forty traffic violations without getting caught. And even if they’re real crimes, they’re minor ones. I don’t understand why any of them makes you important enough to kill.”
“I’m not important enough to kill. I’m nobody.”
“But that’s clearly not true either. So tell me, Commander Frayne.” I settle myself back onto the pilot seat. The angry woman stands before me. It brings us a little closer in height. “What exactly does the Imperial Order know about you that I don’t?”
She kicks at an imaginary mark on the floor, with a sulky expression. “You tell me. You’re the prince with the execution order.”
“Whoever wrote this order didn’
t know a prince would be dealing with it. They thought it would be a regular inspector. And they would never give background information to one of those.”
“So why don’t you just call your daddy? I’m sure he’ll authorize a full database search.”
“My father takes no part in such petty matters.”
“Executing criminals is petty?”
“Of course.”
She rolls her eyes, which somehow makes her even more likeable. She’s not phased by my royal status. If anything, she seems to think less of me for it. That’s a new experience.
“You’re nuts if you think I’d tell you anything.” She pouts again, and the insolent curve of her lips gives me inappropriate thoughts. “You’ll just kill me the second I finish talking. Or hand me over to someone else to do the dirty work.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Riiight.” She draws out the word to enhance its sarcasm potential.
I grip her by the shoulders, and she bites her lower lip, looking up at me rebelliously. I feel the gesture in my pants.
“I said I’m not going to kill you, Corby Frayne. You’re going to have to trust me on that.”
She snorts in derision.
I mean what I say. I’m not going to comply with the order. Not a chance. That kind of mindless brutality gives the Imperial Order a bad name. Once Corby Frayne has told me her big secret, I’ll just take her back to the cells, and explain to the officer in charge that I used the royal prerogative to pardon her. That should clear everything up.
And maybe then I’ll…
I silence my own imagination. It is unseemly to be thinking of making advances to a person of such low birth. It would be an abuse of power. My lion must give way to royal protocol, whether it wants to or not.
It really does not want to.
We fly in silence for a while. Corby Frayne twists her hair around her fingers. It’s not a coquettish move, as far as I can see. She looks genuinely anguished. I want to do something about that, but I can’t. She’s hiding something, and we both know it. And I am certain she is never going to give up her information without a fight.
And then out of nowhere, she starts talking.
“I stole something. Something really important.”
I keep my eyes on the monitor screen. If I don’t look directly at her, perhaps she’ll be bold enough to keep telling the story. “Okay.”
“Half the galaxy would kill to get their hands on what I have.”
“I don’t doubt that." Of course, she actually meant the stolen item she’s carrying, rather than her bombshell physique. This probably isn’t the time for lame jokes. My bad.
“Anyway,” I say, when the pause gets too long. “Continue.”
“Somebody almost died to get it out of a total hellhole. An even more repressive regime on another world. I’ve been tasked with taking it to Quintagon. Someone is waiting for it.”
“I see.” The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. “What is the thing you stole?”
She takes a deep breath. I notice I’m holding my own breath too. This has turned into quite the suspense thriller.
“It’s a chip.”
I exhale. “A chip? That’s it?”
“You’re disappointed?”
“I’d guessed it was priceless Keeluko art, or rare gemstones at the very least.”
“This is not just any chip. This one contains comprehensive information about Imperial Order corruption.”
I blink. Imperial Order what?
“And it’s big,” she continues. “Huge. The documents go all the way back to the last century. The murders, the illegal trade wars, the manipulation, the funding of atrocities. It contains enough information to bring down the entire Parliament. This stuff is red hot. I’m pretty sure that is why you were told to kill me.” She rubs her temples with both forefingers. “I don’t know how they know I have it, but they must. An enforcer tried to pick me up just before your mothership did. I guess I already knew I was in trouble.”
She stops and watches me. I’m aware that my reactions are under scrutiny, so I try to adopt a neutral face.
It’s difficult. I don’t recognize anything of the things she’s telling me.
“Imperial Order corruption?” I manage to say at last.
She snorts. “Right, because you don’t know anything about that stuff.”
I frown, shaking my head slowly. “Seriously? You think the Imperial Order regime is corrupt? How can that be so? We’ve ruled this cluster of galaxies for two hundred years. We couldn’t have done that if we weren’t straight down the line.”
“Is this another joke?”
I look blankly at her. “Why would it be a joke?”
“The evidence is pretty clear, Your Highness.” She says this last part in a contemptuous tone. “I’m shocked that you’re even acting innocent about it. You think it’s all unicorns and rainbows in the Imperial Order? You think we all adore you, and welcome your boots stamping on our faces? Then you really don’t have a clue.”
Her “we’re all equals here” irreverence simultaneously baffles me and makes me hard. I concentrate on suppressing the latter thought.
“Okay, fine. Where is this legendary chip now?”
She smiles. “Well, now. That’s the question, isn’t it?”
“It is, yes. Answer it, please.”
“I don’t have to do or say anything. You can’t make me.”
“Technically, I can. I’m a prince. And you’re a citizen. And you’re on my ship.”
She scowls and makes an angry noise. I sit back and watch her. She’s astonishingly beautiful, if you can catch a glimpse of her face under the tangled mop of hair.
“It’s not your ship. You just borrowed it.”
“All property in this sector ultimately belongs to the Royals.”
She makes a loud “Ha!” noise, then frowns. “If I tell you where it is, will you keep the information to yourself?”
“No. How could I?”
“Then you can forget it.”
I rub my eyes, unable to stifle a yawn. The late night is starting to catch up with me again. “Look, I can fly you around the stars all day if that’s what it takes. But what’s the point? We both know there’s only one way out of this. Just tell me the damn location, and I’ll take you back to the Imperial Order ship.”
“But I don’t want to go back to the Imperial Order ship. I want my ship, and I want to get the hell out of here.”
“Your ship is on our ship.”
“Then get it off your ship, and give it back to me.” She puts on a deep voice, mocking my royal accent. “Technically, you can. You’re a prince.”
Before I can respond, there’s an incoming call from the command center. “Yes?” I say to the air, in my own language.
“Jalton?”
“Uncle Mirodag?”
This is freaky. What’s my uncle doing, calling this ship? How would he know I was on it? I didn’t send that information to anyone on the main vessel.
In fact, I’m acting completely against orders just being out here with the prisoner. So obviously I hid my movements. Even if there’s a tracker in this ship, how does my uncle know I’m on it?
Maybe it’s a coincidence. Maybe Uncle Mirodag makes a lot of calls to small spaceships in the area, and it’s just pure luck that it happens to be the one I’m flying. It’s not likely, but nothing about this day makes any sense.
“Family?” Corby Frayne mouths at me, suddenly silent. I nod.
Could Uncle Mirodag have started operating the command center? That sounds implausible too. He is far too senior for such trivia. On the other hand, a prince shouldn’t be doing any of this either, so I guess we’re even.
Either way, it’s somewhat disorienting to hear him right now.
He, on the other hand, doesn’t sound at all surprised to hear my voice. So he must have known I was here. How?
“What are you doing there, Jalton?” he asks, in a calm tone.
“I lost a bet. Long story.”
“And did…” There’s a long pause. Now his voice drops, low and urgent. “Are you dealing with the Frayne matter… in its entirety?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Did you…” Another long pause. “Did you dispatch the prisoner?”
“Dispatch?”
I assume he means kill. And since when did Uncle Mirodag take any interest in crime and punishment matters?
“Yes or no, Jalton?” he asks, his voice oddly urgent.
I lock eyes with my prisoner. She wears that anxious expression again. My heart squeezes against my ribs.
“Everything is taken care of,” I say, shaking my head at her to let her know she mustn’t speak. “What was that all about anyway?”
He huffs and puffs for a second. “I may as well tell you, since you’re now involved. Although I don’t understand why you didn’t walk away the moment you realized you were dealing with something beyond your understanding. You must have known the communication you received wasn’t intended for you. Others are employed to deal with law enforcement matters, Jalton. It’s most inappropriate for you to involve yourself.”
“Like I say, I lost a bet with Reago.” I roll my eyes for Corby’s benefit, so she knows I want to close the call down, and she smiles weakly. “What do you mean ‘beyond my understanding’?”
Uncle Mirodag still uses his low conspiratorial voice. “The prisoner smuggled a dangerous packet of information across enemy lines. The contents are incendiary.” His voice drops even lower. “I don’t want to alarm you, but… in the wrong hands, they could bring down the entire Imperial Order empire.”
I watch my passenger, as she stretches out her arms and legs, and bends down to touch her toes. “How interesting.”
“A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, Jalton. It’s all falsehoods and propaganda, of course. But it’s well-constructed propaganda. The girl was a terrorist and had to be stopped. I’m sorry you had to deal with it, Jalton. But we are where we are. I daresay it will make a man of you.”
“Sure,” I say, feeling a little nauseated again all of a sudden. Killing Corby Frayne seems even more impossible than it did already.
A Shift in the Sky_In the Stars Romance Page 4