She paused to sniff a few, picking an earthy Shivani rose–based wash, then headed to the shower stall. She dialed on two of the nozzles, feeling guilty enough about that. Who would ever use four, and why? Totally excessive. Except if Zander joined her, it was easy enough to imagine luxuriating under all four sprays, even as they indulged in each other.
She sighed and closed her eyes, searching for that iron will she kept claiming to have.
Forget it, Mae, forget him. Once the truth comes out, he’ll certainly want to forget you in a hurry.
Chapter Twelve
I just finished it.
Those four words were about the only thing stopping Zander from helping himself to Mae’s shower…and Mae.
It took every shred of control he had, and then some, to stop from moving when she did her little striptease. Jezus. What he wouldn’t have given to get his hands on her.
Idiot that he was, he’d gotten so comfortable around her, he’d thought nothing of getting out of those damned clothes. His mind had been focused on all the things he needed to do in order to get back to his ship, and no doubt the piles of work that had accumulated in his absence. However, when Mae started taking off her clothes, his mind went into meltdown while his body smoldered to life.
It would have been too easy to forget anything existed beyond them and this room, just like in the forest. Except they’d returned to civilization and reality, where she still held secrets that would bring nothing but trouble, and more intimacy wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Besides, she was his admiral’s assistant. Once they got to the Swift Brion, anything of a personal nature between them would be strictly forbidden.
I just finished it… Yeah, he guessed she really had.
And what the hell had that tech issue been all about—his codes not working, but hers did? He wanted to put it down to a coincidence, some weird technical glitch that meant absolutely nothing. Didn’t want to revive that acid-burning, frustrating sense of mistrust toward her. But after everything that had happened in the past few days, it was like adding another splinter to an already bloody finger.
Zander blew out a long, uneven breath and made his muscles relax, then shoved the empty water bottle in the waste chute. He returned to the viewer screen and flipped through some of the entertainment feeds, stopping on one of the replays of the weekend’s Inter-Worlds League football. He perched on the arm of the couch, forcing his mind to stay blank as he watched the game. Because if he didn’t think about certain things, he wouldn’t be tempted to do anything of career-jeopardizing stupidity…again.
The minutes, long with tension, ticked by, and the IWL game didn’t do much to distract him. This is how things are going to be from now on. You have to find a way to detach.
Maybe he should regret what had happened between them because of the consequences they now faced. Yet those moments he’d shared with Mae had been something truly unique and extraordinary in a way he’d never experienced before with any other woman. It drove him crazy that he couldn’t trust her.
A swish of movement behind him heightened his senses when she returned, wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffy, dark blue bathrobes, her black hair hanging in damp ropes past her shoulders. As she came closer, the subtle, clean scent of her ambushed him. He pushed to his feet and took a large step back as she dropped down onto the couch.
“Now all I need is some food and to sleep in an actual bed, and it’ll be like the last few days never happened.” She paused to look up at him. A flash of emotion crossed her face, but then her expression fell blank.
“You’re right.” He strove to keep his own appearance carefully neutral. “But there will still be the families of my fallen officers to contact when we finally get back to my damned ship.”
A knock sounded on the door, followed by a muffled announcement of “room service.”
Zander headed for the bedroom. “Can you get that? The sooner I get through the shower, the sooner we can contact the ship.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied as she stood up from the couch.
He ignored the idiotic twinge in his chest at her use of “sir.” Really, what had he thought was going to happen when they got back to civilization and reality hit? I didn’t think, not above my belt, anyway, and that was half the problem.
Zander could have stood under the steaming spray of water and relaxed for half an hour, but he made himself hurry through washing, drying, and then flipping a towel around his hips. Back out in the sitting room, Mae was dressed in IPC standard shipwear and sitting at the small dining table, watching an intergalactic news feed while she ate.
“You better leave me some food.” He stopped by the room service cart to sort through the pile of clothes he’d ordered, pulling out a crisp new uniform and grabbing the medical scanner to give himself a once-over. When he tapped the screen to life, he took a moment to access the last reading—Mae had some bruises and abrasions, including some over her ribs, but nothing more serious.
“I’m sure there’ll be a few leftovers.” She shrugged and stabbed some vegetables with her fork.
“Thanks,” he muttered as he returned to the bedroom, where he dressed in record time. As he’d hoped, he didn’t have any serious injuries, either; the worst was his initial head injury that had caused a minor concussion, which was now mostly resolved.
When he returned to the main room and sat opposite her to help himself to the various dishes, the silence stretched, tension between them racking up fast. Or maybe he was the only one feeling the strain. Mae certainly seemed relaxed as she put some more meat on her plate, her attention seemingly on the news feed.
The meal went by with little conversation. Occasionally one of them would comment on the intergalactic news items, but it was all so pedestrian, dull, and platonic, to the point they might as well have been strangers.
After the plates were emptied, Zander stood, wanting to get away from the table and the weird place they’d fallen into, where they could hardly relate to each other anymore.
Maybe it made him a total jerk, but between her secrets and the fact they’d slept together, he couldn’t see how he could work with her as his admiral’s assistant.
The idea of shipping her off once he got back to the Swift Brion left a hollowness in his chest he didn’t want to consider right now.
“Let’s contact the ship and organize a new rendezvous. I’m sure the crew will be relieved to hear from us.”
Mae nodded and rose from the table more slowly, her shoulders back and bearing reminding him of the first day he’d met her at the spaceport, IPC professionalism firmly in place.
She walked over to the viewer screen and turned off the entertainment feed, selecting communications from the main menu.
Zander positioned himself in front of the viewer and clasped his hands behind his back, rehearsing what he’d say to his crew. They’d have a lot of questions, many of which he wouldn’t be able to answer, because he still had no damn clue what he was supposed to do with the fact that someone had been trying to kill him.
“The hotel’s visual comm system is down, so I can only get us audio,” Mae said as the screen launched into a search to find and contact the Swift Brion.
Seconds ticked by, the search taking longer than it should. At last, the screen flashed with connections data, but it had to be wrong. According to the comm-link, the Swift Brion was no longer in orbit around Tocarra. In fact, the ship had left the solar system.
“That can’t be right,” Mae muttered.
“Try clearing the search and starting again.” He crossed his arms, frustration chewing away at the sense of control he’d restored since they’d gotten out of the wilderness.
A few seconds later, the same information appeared. Mae glanced over at him, confusion and questions clear in her expression. “Maybe when they couldn’t find us, the IPC ordered them to relocate?”
He shook his head, mind spinning as he tried to make sense of this. “No. They couldn’t go anywhere without the
proper hierarchy in place. IPC protocol. And to get someone in to replace me, even temporarily, would have taken days.” Anger burned through his frustration. “Link me up. I want answers.”
Mae initiated the comm. A moment later, one of the communications officers onboard the ship answered.
“This is Captain Admiral Zander Graydon. I’m still on Tocarra and wondering who in the damn hell gave permission for the Swift Brion to break orbit.”
There was a long silence. Zander glanced at Mae, who shrugged.
“I don’t know who this is,” the comm officer replied at last. “But this is a secure IPC line. If you comm here again, I’ll have the government on your ass before you can terminate the linkup.”
The line disconnected, and Zander clenched both fists as incredulity mixed with antagonism like vinegar in his veins.
“Get that connection back now.” Damn the fact they didn’t have visual. Just what in the hell was happening on his ship?
The same comm officer answered.
“This is Captain Admiral Zander Graydon, again, and so help me christ, if you disconnect this line, I will bust your ass down to dirtside duties when I get back onboard. Now who the hell is in charge up there?”
The comm officer sighed. “I told you, this is a secure IPC line. Whoever you are, this is not funny. I’m tracking and forwarding this call to IPC authorities on Tocarra as we speak.”
“Fine. Do whatever you want, so long as you put me through to whoever is in charge of my damned ship.” Maybe if the Tocarra authorities turned up, they could get this mess sorted out sooner rather than later.
“The person in charge of this ship is Captain Admiral Zander Graydon, and he is currently in a subspace conference with the IPC appropriations committee. So, no, I can’t put you through right now, and wouldn’t even if he was free. Enjoy the rest of your life on Erebus, asswipe—the Tocarra authorities are about five seconds from taking you down.”
The line disconnected.
What in christ’s name—
Mae threw the viewer remote down on a nearby side table, the clatter catching his attention.
“Oh god. Zander, they did it. We have to get out of here.”
She brushed by him and started yanking off her IPC uniform. Except his mind had snagged on the whole the person in charge of this ship is Captain Admiral Zander Graydon, and he is currently in a subspace conference and couldn’t move past it. Even the sight of Mae in nothing but underwear didn’t clear the confusion.
“Who has done what, and what do you mean we have to get out of here?”
Mae didn’t stay undressed for long. She pulled on civ clothes and tossed a pair of plain cargo pants at him.
“The Reidar. They thought you were dead. They replaced you with a replica onboard the Swift Brion. You know what we just did? Called them up and told them you’re still alive and exactly where they can find you. In fact, they probably knew it the second you tried to check in.”
The Reidar? Those frecking shape-shifting aliens Rian Sherron was so set on destroying? According to Rian, only a handful of people knew the truth about the Reidar’s existence. He eyed Mae more closely. And she was one of those few people?
She chucked the uniform aside and gathered up the other civ clothes he’d ordered for her. With a few quick movements, she’d whipped the cover off a cushion, stuffed the clothes inside, and fashioned it into a crude carry bag.
“How do you know about the Reidar?”
“Zander, seriously. Get out of your uniform. They’ll be here any second.”
While his mind processed the facts and got him automatically moving, logic was still asking how, why, when…? with a big fat what the hell thrown in for good measure.
Mae gave him a plain shirt and shoved the rest of his civ clothes in the cushion bag, then moved to the door and waited for him. He got his pants and boots back on and was still shrugging into his shirt as he followed her into the hallway.
Except frustration and confusion, knowing he was missing parts of this picture, dogged his steps. “This is ridiculous. You really think a shape-shifting alien has taken up residence as me on the Swift Brion?”
Mae shot him an impatient look over her shoulder as they passed the elevators and headed for the stairs. “You have some other explanation that makes more sense? You heard the comm officer. He said you were onboard the ship.”
Christ, if only he did have some other logical excuse.
Until a few months ago, he hadn’t even known the Reidar existed, and now one of the scum bastards had possibly taken over his life. Was that why his damned codes hadn’t worked today? Was that who’d sent the knife-wielding masked man, orchestrated the shuttle crash, and sent a missile and gunship to finish him off? Just what in the hell was a man meant to do about something like that?
Get revenge.
Pure, unadulterated wrath burned through him like a solar flare.
They hit the stairs at a jog, skipping two and three steps at a time as they hurried downward.
At the next landing, Mae paused, and taking a second longer to halt his downward momentum, Zander almost ran right into her. He was about to ask why she’d stopped, but then he heard it—steps echoing, getting closer, coming up toward them.
Mae sidled closer to the railing and looked down, holding up a hand for him to remain still. Except screw that, he could operate all stealth-like if that’s what she needed. He shifted up next to her and gazed down at the dizzying spiral of stairs, catching a glimpse of a single figure dressed all in black—suspiciously similar to the same guy who’d tried to knife him the day of the shuttle crash—sprinting upward. The utilitarian lights reflected off at least two or three weapons.
Zander lowered into a crouch, turning to put his shoulder blades against the railing, and pulled the knife, the only weapon they had between the two of them, from where he’d concealed it at his lower back. Mae got down next to him, head slightly away, toward the sound of steps getting closer.
Just as the steps crested the landing a step below them, Mae went up, catching the black-clad figure by surprise. But the advantage didn’t last, as the masked guy reacted with well-honed fighting instincts, throwing Mae clear. She hit the wall and stumbled to her knees.
Before the masked guy could advance on her, Zander launched his attack. Kicking the assassin in the back of the knees, he half caught the weight of the guy as he stumbled and then propelled him into the railing, hoping to knock him out. But the masked man managed to catch himself at the last second, avoiding his face impacting the metal rail.
But no way was he going to let the guy back on his feet. He followed up with a downward punch, putting his whole body weight behind the swing. Mask guy took it with a shake of his head and came straight back up, propelling himself into Zander’s chest with a shoulder check. Zander stumbled over a step as he caught the weight and tried to compensate for it before they both went tumbling down the stairs. Still holding the knife, he tried for a flesh wound, aiming for the guy’s midsection. But mask guy deflected the blow with his elbow and added in a too-quick hit to his wrists that sent the knife clattering.
Mae threw herself back into the fray, grabbing a handful of mask guy’s shirt and yanking him back. While he was distracted, Zander punched him again, aiming for his temple. The hit left his knuckles aching and maybe dazed the guy for a nanosecond. But it didn’t stop him from flipping Mae over his shoulder, putting her flat on her back, and leaving her coughing.
Up to that point, Zander been fighting to simply knock the guy unconscious so he and Mae could be on their way without leaving a dead body behind. But mask guy refused to go down and stay there, and the sight of Mae half curling in on herself, gasping for breath, made fury burn through the last of his civility.
With a rasping curse, he grabbed mask guy by the shoulder and yanked him off balance before he could think about setting into Mae while she was down.
He landed a knee into mask guy’s guts with enough force to send him stumb
ling into the wall. It should have at least bought him a second of respite, but the guy pushed off and came right back at him. Zander ducked the fist flying at his face but didn’t manage to avoid the follow-up blow that caught him in the jaw. Mask guy rammed him into the railing, the rounded edge digging painfully into his lower back. The attacker pushed harder against Zander’s upper chest and shoulder, overbalancing him, likely with the intent to send him plunging down the stairwell.
In desperation, Zander threw out another hit, but couldn’t get enough power behind the swing, and mask guy deflected it with little difficulty. He hooked a foot into the bottom railing as more of his weight shifted into the nothingness behind him. Even though he was shoving back, muscles burning from the exertion of holding himself on solid ground, he was losing this silent battle of brute strength.
Mask guy gave a sudden jerk, the pressure of his hold loosening. And then Mae was there, grabbing a handful of the mask and yanking the guy’s head back as she shoved the knife in deep under his chin. He made a gurgling yell then let go and crumpled to his knees. She shoved him sideways as he collapsed, probably dead before he hit the landing at her feet.
Zander leaned over, bracing his hands against his knees and gulping air like he’d just come out of zero atmosphere. Mae knelt down and used his knife to slice the mask away from the attacker’s face.
He probably shouldn’t have been surprised to see the blank gaze of the dead alien staring back at them, but he frecking was. Well, maybe not surprised. More like pissed as hell. Where did these jerks get off trying to take him out and hijack his life? The creature almost appeared human but had a flatness over its nose and brows that made it extraterrestrial looking, just like the first dead alien he’d seen on Rian’s ship. That and the slightest shimmer of a scalelike quality beneath its flesh.
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