Thief: Fringe, Book 1

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  She left before she gave in to her desire to argue but it damn near killed her. She wouldn’t have a notion of what they were planning to do. Even as a raw recruit on Fairing’s ship, she’d always heard enough scuttlebutt to grasp the plan. Not so on Mutiny.

  “Unless I tap the kitchen com from my bedroom.”

  Kraft considered the idea. Mutiny was a 2xBasic with limited upgrades. Mucking about with the electronics would be child’s play. Open any com panel, twist three wires, and she’d be privy to everything on the ship.

  “I’d also kiss my honor goodbye.”

  Jace had every right to spy on her but she had no right to spy on him. He was the captain and she had to follow his orders.

  Kraft waited until she heard the port shuttle disengage from Mutiny, then she made her way to the bridge. She looked out the main window. “Is that the ship they’re salvaging?”

  Bailey nodded, obsessively tuning his guitar.

  “Lord on high, do any of you know what that is?”

  “Sure,” Bailey said, “it’s just an old IWOG scout.”

  “No, it’s not.” Kraft yanked the guitar right out of his hands. “That’s a Runner ship.” She set the instrument aside. “That ship is loaded with deadly hardware.”

  “How can you tell it’s a bounty hunter’s—”

  “Do you have a com link to them?”

  “Sure.” Bailey nodded to the console.

  She activated the com. “Captain Lawless?”

  “Kraft? Get off the com,” Jace ordered.

  “You are in danger, Captain Lawless.” She kept her voice calm even though her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest. “Stop where you are, turn back, and get off that ship right now.”

  “Everything looks—”

  Rapid gun fire crackled over the com, causing both her and Bailey to wince.

  “Activate the other shuttle,” Kraft said.

  Terror-filled, Bailey froze.

  “Now, Bailey. I don’t have time to explain.”

  Bailey just gave the com a wide-eyed look of fear.

  Kraft grabbed him by the shoulders and gripped him hard enough to hurt him, but the pain made him focus on her.

  Calmly, she said, “If you don’t activate the second shuttle, they are going to die over there.” Kraft let the truth sink in. “Trust me. I can save them.”

  Bailey slapped at the console.

  She ran to the second shuttle, fired it up, disengaged from Mutiny and made her way to the IWOG scout. To her relief, the shuttle had a small cache of guns. She picked the best of a bad lot.

  It took forever to double-dock her shuttle piggyback to Jace’s on the cargo bay of the Runner ship. When she did, she touched the airlock. The entire ship was filled with autofire weapons. Jace and his crew were pinned down, unable to retreat.

  She walked along the central hall. Thanks to Bailey’s boots, she had two thin surprises in conjunction with her crummy gun. She touched the walls, read where each autofire weapon was located and blasted it to smithereens with a shot. Or two. Her gun had a sight off by about five degrees. Annoying, but she had the ammo to take at least three shots for every solid hit.

  Kraft yanked out the spent clip, slammed up another and continued down the hall, hoping like hell she wasn’t too late.

  Finally, she found Jace and his crew bunkered down behind a pile of wooden crates, hiding from the infrared sensors of the autofire modules. Dodging, using the crates to shield her body heat, she made her way toward them.

  To her horror, Jace stood when he saw her.

  She jumped in front of him and took a shot in her left arm as she tackled him to the floor. Before she could enjoy the feeling of his rugged body below hers, she scrambled up, spun around and shot the autofire weapon apart.

  “What are you doing here?” Jace put his hands around her waist and pulled her behind a crate. He pushed up her sleeve to check her arm.

  The bullet grazed a three inch long and inch wide gash across her upper left arm. The wound looked a lot worse than it felt. She rolled the fabric down and a crimson blossom seeped ever larger against her yellow sleeve.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Shit howdy! What’s freak-show doing here?” Heller had to lie flat to hide his bulk.

  “I’m selling cookies.” Kraft rolled her eyes. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

  “You made this ship do this!” Heller’s eyes were wide and he looked on the verge of a full blown attack of hysteria.

  “No, but I could have told you to expect this if you would have let me be a part of your little planning session.” Kraft touched the floor, rose over the crates, took out two more autofires with three shots and dropped back behind the crates.

  Jace looked at her with an expression she couldn’t figure out, and after their chat earlier, she didn’t want to violate his privacy by trying to read him through the floor, which they both touched. She also didn’t want to feel that odd feedback that blasted her when she’d tried to read him through his plate.

  “Yeah, I forgot you know everything,” Heller snarled.

  “I think the gun in my hand is more capable of coherent thought than you are. Lord on high, we’re not done yet.”

  Touching the floor, she waited. A roving autofire rolled down the hall. Popping up, she blew it away with three shots. It slumped down to a quivering mass of snapping electronics.

  “Now we’re done.” She yanked out the spent clip, flipped it over her shoulder, then slammed up another. All of the sudden she realized the crummy gun she held was far superior to the ancient Sod Busters Jace chose to arm himself with. She wondered why he didn’t upgrade his guns, and then decided he had a fondness for them or felt more comfortable with them, just as she did with a modified Katana. And such a random thought didn’t really matter at the moment.

  “Well, that went simple.” Garrett blew across the barrel of his gun and holstered it.

  Heller grunted and slapped his back.

  “I vote she goes with us next time, Captain,” Garrett said.

  Heller shoved Garrett hard for betraying him.

  “If you folks keep pulling boners like this, there isn’t gonna be many more next times.” She winced as she pressed her sleeve against her wound. Focusing her mind, she made the injury stop hurting, but let it bleed. She wanted the wound clean before she shut it down.

  “How did you get over here?” Jace demanded.

  “My fairy godmother flew me over.” She shook her head. “No, she was gonna, but I thought it would be faster if I just took the other shuttle.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Jace said, his voice rising.

  “Tell you what,” she said, raising her voice, “neither should you.”

  “Everything was just fine—”

  “Until you almost got shot!”

  His gaze fell on her bloody arm. Lowering his voice to an intimate whisper, Jace said, “I wouldn’t have stood up if you wouldn’t have come in the room.”

  Glaring at him, Kraft whispered, “Oh, goody, let’s play blame the victim.”

  His voice rising again, Jace said, “You are so far from a victim, lady, it makes my head spin.”

  Climbing to her knees, Kraft said, “That bullet would have literally made your pretty head spin. Lord on high, Captain Lawless, you’re just embarrassed because your cook-whore saved your ass, or rather, your head. Oh, and by the way, you’re welcome!”

  Kraft found herself practically nose-to-nose with Jace. She wanted to shake him for almost getting himself killed. She realized he wanted to do the same thing to her. Fury erupted because they were both safe. Getting pissed off was a hell of a lot more comfortable for both of them to deal with rather than the underlying emotion of affection.

  Looking up, locking her gaze to his, Kraft knew down to her bones Jace had the same insight. They were furious at each other because they cared about each other. Simple and complicated all in the same breath.

  “Would you two stop squalli
ng?” Garrett shook his head at them as if reprimanding children. “Ponder the weirdness wonder of it all, but we’re safe, and we still have to salvage this ship of horrors. That is, if it’s safe to do so.”

  “We’re clear.” She shook from the surge of adrenaline and the sudden connection to Jace. Gathering her wits, pulling herself from the knowledge in his eyes, she touched the floor, read lightly, confirming, and said, “We’re clear.”

  Garrett stood, stretched, and settled his hat. “Let’s get moving on this then.”

  Jace also stood.

  “You’re taking the word of freak-show?” Heller’s hands shook as he clutched his Sharp Shooter rifle. His breath, short and gasping, burst from him like ten lions in a crowded cage.

  “Why would I lie?” Kraft looked at her wound and then at Heller. “Did I come over here to make sure you all got shot or just me? How stupid are you?” She deliberately goaded Heller. As soon as she did, his fear turned from free-floating rage to self-preservation. Heller got a very hard and fast grip on himself.

  “Stop calling me stupid, she-bitch.” His hands steadied on his gun.

  “If the boot fits,” she drawled, “you best take it from your mouth.”

  Heller took a deep breath and stood, looming over her. He touched the butt of his gun to his crotch then flicked it toward her face. “I’ve got something nasty to shove in your mouth, and it ain’t no boot.”

  Before Jace could punch Heller again, she smiled up at Jace then turned her gaze to Heller. She gave a calm, cool assessment up his massive frame from her submissive position and pressed her right index finger to her thumb, over and over.

  Heller backed off so fast he almost tripped himself with his own big feet. Embarrassed by his fear, he recovered, lowered his gun, flicked off the safety and pointed the barrel at her head.

  Kraft laughed. “You think?”

  Doubt flickered across Heller’s face.

  Kraft smoothed her hand down from her waist, along her thigh, to the top of her borrowed boot. Her fingertips stroked the handle of the thin blade tucked between the seams.

  Heller’s gaze followed her stroke.

  “I got fast hands, Heller. How fast are yours?”

  Meeting her gaze, Heller clutched his gun and swallowed.

  “Do you think I can knock that gun from your hand before you can shoot me?”

  Heller’s brows lowered as he considered.

  “Enough.” Jace wedged himself between them.

  Heller yanked his gun up and flipped on the safety.

  Jace wouldn’t let her do it because he knew she could. One flick of her hidden blade and she could take off Heller’s hand long before he could pull the trigger.

  “Garrett, Heller, start stripping the ship.”

  They set to work. Kraft found herself alone with Jace.

  “What of me?” She peered up at him. When he noticed her mouth was level with the worn edge of his button fly, his gaze jumped to hers. She smiled and winked, but he didn’t blush. He got hard. She could see his reaction and sure as hell he could feel it.

  Jace stepped back and turned away. “Get back to Mutiny.”

  She stood. “Captain, if I could suggest—”

  “I think you’ve done enough for today. You best be on your way and have Payton look at your arm. If you’re able, then rustle up some dinner.” He couldn’t even look at her when he spoke with his imperious captain voice.

  “Oooo, nice way to put me in my place, Captain.” When he turned, she snapped him a sharp salute. “But before you leave this ship, you might want to strip it of the electronics. Runners typically have some of the best tricks.”

  “This is an IWOG scout, not a Runner ship.”

  “Some Runner bought this IWOG scout and upgraded the hell out of it so he could use it for bounty hunting. Had you paid more attention to details, you would have known that.”

  “How was I to know autofire weapons would be around every corner?”

  Kraft gave a short, exasperated sigh. “Because it’s a Runner ship.”

  “It looks like an IWOG scout.”

  “It is. One that a Runner upgraded.”

  “But it looks like an IWOG scout.”

  “It only looks like that if you don’t look hard enough!” She lowered her voice. “Didn’t you notice the larger port aft?”

  “So?”

  Resisting the urge to shake him, she calmly said, “This ship is a flying blow torch. It’s faster than almost anything in the Void.”

  Jace pondered for a moment. “You knew by looking?”

  “Just at the back end.” Kraft nodded. “It’s an IWOG scout, just as you were told, but they hoped you wouldn’t notice the wider exhaust port, and you didn’t. Do you realize you could have come into this ship and found a prisoner on the loose? Who knows who this Runner transported?”

  “Kobra never mentioned—”

  “And you didn’t know enough to ask.”

  Jace gritted his teeth.

  “I’m not trying to grind it in your face. I’m just suggesting, in the future, for the time I’m on your ship, it would behoove you to accept my input.” She grinned. “Yes, I’m a girl, a lady, a chick, a she-bitch, and Heller’s personal favorite, a freak-show, but I also know a thing or two about the Void that maybe you all don’t. I won’t expect you to do what I say, but at least give me a say.” She shrugged and winced. She held pressure to her arm and mentally forced the wound to stop bleeding. “Even if you all point and laugh at me right after I open my mouth, at least give me the chance to speak before you relegate me to the kitchen.”

  Jace cast a curious gaze around the storage room. “You knew this was a Runner ship?”

  “As soon as I saw it from the bridge of Mutiny.”

  Jace leaned close. “How do you know so much about ships just by looking?”

  “I told you that I had five years of military training. I know ships and I know upgrades, or the signs of them, anyway.”

  “Which military branch?”

  She’d rather do anything other than answer that question.

  “Captain!” Heller yelled, puffing into the room. “Garrett says you gotta see this bridge!”

  Jace watched Heller lumber away. “Why is he so excited?”

  “It’s loaded with tricks.” She silently thanked Heller for her reprieve.

  “What tricks?”

  “You want my help or not?”

  “Fine. Take whatever you want. Just don’t bleed to death.”

  “Yeah, wouldn’t want to deprive you of your captive cook.” Kraft turned on her heel and stalked off to the shuttle bay.

  “The next time I get an itch to do a good deed,” Jace said, “I think I’ll shoot myself in the head.”

  Kraft turned. She looked at him for a long time. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

  “I didn’t ask for yours either.”

  “Touché.”

  Kraft’s injury hampered her movements in the kitchen. She made a simple dinner and ate standing, but she couldn’t manage to clean up one-handed afterwards.

  Against her best efforts, she managed to maneuver the large pots and pans right to the floor. Her shoulder just wouldn’t grasp more than ten puny pounds no matter how angry she got.

  She fumbled a pot. Before it could hit the floor, Jace caught it.

  “Here, I got it.”

  When he bent over to put the pot away, she admired his backside. Jace Lawless had a fanny that any woman would want to squeeze, or wrap her legs around.

  “Feel like explaining why you’re doing this now?” Jace closed the cabinet and faced her.

  “Just wanted to see you bend over before I went to bed.”

  She hoped for a smile, but instead, he only looked at her with concern in the depth of his eyes.

  “I seem to have a real fascination for your backside.” She smiled at him, but he wouldn’t echo it.

  “How’s your arm?” He lifted his hand as if to touch her, but seemed reluct
ant to actually make contact. His hand fell back to his side.

  “It’s fine.” She shrugged. “It’s one of the lesser wounds I’ve had.”

  “You took it for me,” Jace whispered, his gaze riveted to the bloody mess on her left sleeve.

  She hadn’t had time to ask him for a new shirt or clean up this one. After what happened on the Runner ship, she didn’t think asking him for any more favors would be a wise idea.

  “You’re my captain,” she said simply.

  “So you’d give up your life for me?”

  The dance felt way too intense, and she pulled back. “All I did was give up a chunk of my arm for you. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “It is to me.” He stepped close enough for her to smell the subtle musk of his body. It wasn’t fair that he smelled even better than he looked.

  She hadn’t thought before she’d leaped out in front of him. She’d automatically reacted. The more she thought about her reasons for doing so, the more she wanted to pull away from Jace. His scent and the plaintive look in his eyes made her feel uncomfortable in her own skin.

  “If I hadn’t leapt forward that bullet would have hit your neck. Didn’t I once confess I’d hate to muss your hair let alone your pretty neck?” She desperately tried to keep the conversation light with her joking question and her jaunty attitude.

  “You don’t owe me your life, Kraft.” He frowned with his face and his entire body. Jace slumped, looking dejected, embarrassed and apologetic.

  “You think that’s why I protected you? Because I feel guilty about owing you?” She turned away. “Well, I must say, you’ve got me all sussed out, Captain Lawless.” She dodged past him, thankful that he’d given her the opening she needed to exit.

  “Wait.”

  “What? You wanna toss it in my face some more?” Hands on her hips, she continued, “Haven’t you ground my nose in it enough that I owe you? You keep ascribing it to me, but you’re the one who keeps bringing it up.” She lifted her arms and winced when doing so reopened her wound. She swore up a German streak.

  “Here, let me—” He reached for her.

  “Don’t you dare.” She pulled back. She was unbalanced enough without adding the confusion of his touch to the mix. “I swear, if I had a purse of script I’d hurl it right at your pretty face. Since I don’t, you can just keep my share of the job, okay? Consider it a downpayment on my contract.”