"Well, I'm going to bed. Don't wake me for anything but imminent destruction."
"Got it."
Giving his hand a squeeze, she turned toward the door. Stone was up on one elbow, watching her narrowly. Even as tired as she was, the dark velvet of his eyes sent a shiver down her spine and the muscles of her abdomen tightened. She gave him a slow wink as she walked by.
"Ship's all yours, tiger."
Moving down the corridor, she entered her room, stripped quickly, and fell onto the bed, asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.
Chapter 8
Regan looked up from her meal with a bright smile as Mea entered the mess. Warren and Stone had been with her from the moment she'd woken up on Ema's table, but Warren was preoccupied and Stone hadn't said much beyond "Hey, kid, how d'you feel?" since she'd opened her eyes. She hadn't been bored exactly, but she was glad to see Mea. The woman answered her smile with one of her own.
"Morning, crew."
She looked more relaxed than Regan had ever seen her, dressed in a T-shirt with loose slacks, dark hair tumbling in damp waves around her shoulders, and green eyes sparkling merrily.
Without pause, she walked past Stone, running a finger along the back of his neck as she did so. The man jerked as though prodded, fork clattering onto his plate, and Regan smothered a giggle with one hand. She didn't pretend to understand adults, but she wasn't totally stupid about them either. She knew that there was something between Stone and Mea and she was behind it all the way. Maybe, just maybe, if they got together, they might want to keep her, too.
Regan felt Mea's cool fingers on the nape of her neck and tipped back her head to look up at the woman.
"How's your neck feel, sugar?"
"Good."
"Ema gave you a clean bill of health?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Wonderful." She gave Regan a peck on the forehead before turning away to the dispenser.
The girl couldn't keep a goofy smile off of her face, even when Stone looked at her with eyebrows raised. What she wouldn't give, she thought in the secret parts of her heart, to call these two her parents.
Mea sat down next to her with a steaming cup filled with a pungent liquid. After a sip and a sigh of gratification, the woman turned her twinkling gaze on Stone, a smile playing with the corners of her mouth.
"And you, Bay? How did you sleep?"
Regan liked the shortened version of his new name, but didn't think he did. It was hard to tell, though, since he was wearing his goggles in the brightness of the mess hall and he kept his face expressionless. He was silent for a long moment before picking up his fork.
"Fine," was all he said. Regan couldn't remember seeing him asleep.
"Are you sure? You seem quieter than normal."
"How can you tell?" Regan muttered under her breath, but he heard anyway and paused to stare at her. She ducked her head and busily scooped food from her plate, chewing industriously and trying to ignore Mea's chortle.
"Warren?"
The android was looking at a digital pad in front of him, not even glancing up at Mea. She nudged his arm.
"Hmm?"
"Are we still on course?"
"On course?" He sent her a quick frown. "To home base? Yeah, why wouldn't we be?"
Mea turned her attention back to Stone, propping her chin on one hand and eyeing him with a wicked glint. "I admire your restraint. I did say the ship was yours."
"Trust me, I thought about it," he muttered in his deep voice, but didn't look up at her.
"I do trust you," she said softly. "Too bad you don't feel the same about me."
He raised his head and they gazed at each other silently. Regan glanced from one to the other, feeling like a spectator at the Games. It seemed like she could cut the tension between them with a knife, but she held herself still, too fascinated to interrupt.
"Not eating breakfast?" Warren didn't seem at all interested in Mea's answer, and Regan thought that he must have spoken on purpose as a distraction.
Mea sighed, turning her head slowly toward the android as if reluctant to look away from Stone. "You know I don't eat before my workout." She stretched a little bit. "Speaking of…" Downing the liquid in the cup, she rose to her feet, looking at Regan. "When you're finished eating and get bored with these two, come find me in the training room."
"Okay."
Placing her cup in the sterilizer, Mea strode toward the exit, but hesitated behind Stone. He stiffened as she leaned close and murmured something in his ear. Regan could see a wicked grin on Mea's lips as she left, but her curiosity tripled when she saw a flush climb Stone's neck. She heard Warren snort and glanced over to see surprise fading from the android's face to be replaced by amusement. She guessed his hearing was much better than hers.
"Let me tell you something, Stone. In all the years I've known that woman, no man has been able to resist her once she sets her sights on him. You're holding up real well, but let's face it; she's got you on the run. Why don't you just cave and save yourself the torture?"
Regan almost laughed in shocked surprise, but held her breath to keep it in. Sometimes adults forgot you were there if you were quiet enough, and she wouldn't have missed this for all the worlds. She could see muscles bunching in Stone's jaw before he spoke through clenched teeth.
"Advice from an android?"
Warren laughed low in the back of his throat. "You think I resisted any better, just because I'm an android?"
"What!" Stone's hands fisted and Regan's jaw dropped open.
Warren looked at Stone's fists and raised his eyebrows mockingly. "What's this? Jealous? I thought you didn't want her." He chuckled as Stone stood abruptly and stalked out of the room. Shaking his head, he looked over at Regan. "Stubborn."
"You and Mea—really? I mean, you two…?"
"Yeah, but it was a long time ago. Didn't last long." He frowned thoughtfully at the closed door. "I don't know what his problem is with her. Maybe he does men."
"Warren!" Regan squeaked in shock.
"What?"
"I'm eleven!"
"Oh yeah." He grimaced apologetically. "Sorry."
"Grown-ups!" she muttered, shaking her head in exasperation.
Standing, she cleaned off the table and left Warren deep in his digital pad again. Finding the training room was harder than she'd thought. She ended up winding her way down through the engineering section and finding it by accident. It was in the forward part of the belly of the ship, whereas the engineering section was in the rear. It was larger than she'd expected. Mea was seated on a mat, stretching. She'd exchanged slacks for shorts, long legs bare.
"Hey, kidlet. Glad you found me."
"Wow, this place is amazing!"
There was equipment all along one wall, and the opposite wall was fully mirrored. Weapons and instruments hung on wall racks, and in one corner, strange cords hung down from the ceiling.
"That's the VR setup. We run simulations on it—different hunts."
"Really? Can I try it?"
Mea snorted. "Not a chance in hell."
Regan giggled and plopped down next to her. "Can you at least show me how to kick somebody's butt?"
"Kick butt? Well, I can't show you anything too strenuous—your neck is still healing, even though it probably feels fine." She eyed Regan thoughtfully. "I can start you with the basics—the first and most important lesson a hunter learns in physical training, though it's boring as hell."
"What is it?"
"Breathing."
Regan looked at her dubiously, and Mea grinned before stretching forward, resting forehead on knees.
"Breathing?"
"Umhmm. You can't be gasping like a landed fish during a fight, or running out of breath while chasing down a target. If you can control your breathing, you can pace yourself and not wear out as quickly."
Regan considered this, tugging on one earlobe absently. What she really wanted to learn was how to punch and kick—but if this was how a hunte
r started…
"Okay. What do I do?"
Over the next few minutes, Mea demonstrated breathing and relaxation techniques and then watched Regan repeat them. Then she got up and moved toward the equipment, speaking over her shoulder.
"Now, remember to relax. If you tense up and stiffen that neck of yours, Ema's going to take it out on my hide. And breathe from the diaphragm. If you get bored, just let me know."
So Regan practiced breathing. At first, she concentrated on the technique of it, but then her muscles relaxed and her mind began to drift pleasantly. She was unaware of the passage of time.
Some time later, something tickled at the edge of her consciousness, and she slowly opened her eyes. Stone was standing next to her, arms folded, but he wasn't looking down at her. Regan turned her head to see what held his attention. Mea was in the center of the room fighting with two strange people. Regan jerked in alarm, wondering where the two strangers had come from, but then she saw one flicker and realized that she was looking at a couple of holograms. She scrambled to her feet.
"Wow. Holograms."
Stone glanced down at her with eyebrows raised and she grinned sheepishly.
"I was practicing breathing. I didn't see her."
"Breathing?"
"I wanted to kick butt. She showed me how to breathe instead."
"Kick butt, huh?" There was a smile lurking around his mouth. "What'd you wanna know?"
"Well…" Regan gestured at the combatants. "All that!"
They watched the fighters for a minute. To Regan it looked like a dance—a very fast one. Mea flexed, twisted, spun, and struck with such blinding speed, Regan could barely follow it all.
"Hmm. Maybe you'd better stick to breathing."
She looked up at him in wonder. A smile and a joke all in one day.
"Are you feeling okay?" she asked cheekily, and he gave her the eyebrows again.
Regan giggled behind her hands.
"End program," Mea said in a slightly breathless, but clear voice. The holograms disappeared, and she wiped one hand across her forehead, breathing deeply and pacing in circles to cool down. She shot a quick look their way, a twinkle in her eyes. "Care to try, handsome? I could always use a real sparring partner."
He didn't answer, but any humor Regan had sensed in him disappeared and she felt a stab of disappointment. She didn't understand him. Mea had given him a whole new life and he acted like he hated her. Maybe he hated them both. That thought had her sinking down onto the mat and biting a lip to keep tears away.
"No? Suit yourself." The woman continued pacing, but the lines of her face hardened. "We need to go over your story. My boss, Michael Conley, is going to be digging into this pretty hard, and we all need to be on the same page as far as who you two are and how you ended up on my ship. I recommend sticking as close to the truth as possible. So for you, squirt—" Mea walked over and dropped with casual grace next to her, "I think you should tell the story about the ship just exactly as you told me. Maybe leave out the part where he's your father." She nudged the girl with a teasing grin, and Regan dropped her head in embarrassment.
"My father died with my mother when I was two. I'm sorry I lied to you about Stone being my dad."
Mea snorted. "I'm not! You need more practice at it, though. Anyway, you could always say you don't know why Terrik took you with him, but maybe he thought you'd come in handy—for example, selling your ass for transport…"
Regan looked up at her in horror, but the woman was glaring at Stone. How could she bring that up again? Tears stung her eyes as she ducked her head, stomach clenching with despair. He hadn't wanted her then. What made her think either one of these two would want her now?
A big warm hand cupped the back of her neck, and Regan darted a look to see Stone crouching next to her.
"Hey. I didn't mean what I said back there."
"You didn't?" Regan winced at the quaver in her voice and quickly wiped at the tears on her face.
"No, I didn't. I didn't want you to get hurt."
"You were trying to protect me?"
"That's right."
"Thanks," she whispered, smiling shyly at him.
A hint of a smile danced around his mouth before he stood back up, running his hand through her hair once before moving away. The knot in Regan's stomach eased as hope snuck back in. She turned her smile on Mea who responded with a wink, eyes gentle.
"Better?" the woman murmured, and Regan nodded. "Okay, then, back to business. So—"
"So I find out Terrik wants to sell me and I run away from him. Then I meet Stone. He tries to help me get off the moon before Terrik finds me again."
"Not bad. Definitely workable. We meet, I offer to transport you… We need details." Mea glanced over her shoulder to where Stone stood, inspecting the weapons on the wall. "Would you stop coveting my toys and come over here? We need to do this before Warren finds us."
The three of them went over the story a few times, but Regan didn't get bored. She was excited about being part of a conspiracy, especially with these two. Stone's new background was also interesting. She wanted to ask about his old life, but was uneasy about it; all she knew was that he'd killed people and had been put in prison for it. She wasn't sure she wanted to know why.
Apparently the old Stone had been a smuggler and a thief working for a black market group whose leader was now frozen in Mea's cargo bay. He'd spent a couple of years in a minimum-security correctional facility for theft, but since then he hadn't been caught.
"I don't feel too bad about giving him Terrik's life. He's scum, plain and simple. He'd sell his own child to cannibals if it turned him a profit." Mea added with a contemptuous toss of her head, and Stone stood abruptly, pacing back and forth next to them. Mea watched him with a frown.
"Don't tell me you feel remorse?"
"You gave that guy a death sentence. I was on my way to be executed."
"What?" Regan exploded in shock, but neither of the adults paid her any attention.
"I wouldn't worry about him. He's very good at eluding the law."
Stone stopped and looked down at the woman, hands resting on hips.
"Executed?" Again, no response from the adults.
Mea leaned back onto her hands, long legs stretched before her with ankles crossed. She was looking up at Stone with a serene little smile on her face. "Believe me, Terrik deserves what he gets."
At the use of his former name, Stone's jaw clenched, but he didn't move otherwise.
"Why? Why were they going to execute you?"
Without looking her way, Mea finally answered her, "Because he didn't die like a good boy and because he didn't play nice with the other inmates."
Before she could ask what the heck that was supposed to mean, Warren appeared.
"Mea, Mike's on the com for you. I've never seen him this—agitated."
Mea rose gracefully to her feet and moved toward him. "He's never been boss when we had a rogue before." She patted his face as she went by. "Stop worrying so much. You'll blow a circuit."
She left and Warren wandered into the room, a frown creasing his forehead.
"Hey, Warren?" At Regan's attempt to get his attention, his head lifted and his eyes focused on her, but he still seemed far away. "What's 'rogue' mean?"
His gaze sharpened, and he came to sit beside her.
"You sure you want to know? You're only eleven."
She made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes at him, receiving a lopsided grin in response. "Now you remember! Yeah, I wanna know."
"In this instance, a rogue is a hunter who has become uncontrollable and unpredictable, a danger to themselves and others. Someone who ignores the law that they've been conditioned to believe in and makes up his or her own laws. Back when the Hunting Corp was first formed, we had a lot of rogues—the training, conditioning, and freedom to kill were too much for many hunters. We've got a much better psychological screening process now, but back then…" He shook his head. "It was chaos. At
first they tried to take care of it in a mostly humane fashion, bringing in the rogues and reconditioning them or incarcerating them, but this didn't get results fast enough. The Planetary Coalition was threatening to collapse the Corp entirely. So they sent other hunters after them with permission to execute. It was a damn massacre."
He fell silent, staring off into the distance as if he could see back in time. Regan was peripherally aware that Stone had started pacing again, but her attention was riveted on Warren and his morbid story.
"So rogues are hunted down and killed?"
"When we used to have them, yes, but we haven't had a rogue in just under twenty years. Bragan's always been hot tempered, but he passed the psych evaluation. I don't know why he went rogue. That's probably what's driving Mike crazy."
With the quicksilver changes of youth, Regan's attention was diverted. "Why does she call him Uncle Mike?"
"Because he raised her after we found her on a hunt."
"She said a hunter found her after her parents were killed. That was him? You were there?"
"Yes, we were both there." He eyed her speculatively, and Regan knew with a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to tell that particular story. "Mike and I used to be a team, like Mea and I are now. Actually, this whole ship and everything in it was a gift to her from Mike when he was promoted from active hunter to boss man. It only made sense, since he basically raised her on this ship and he wasn't going to use it anymore."
The implications of what she was hearing struck Regan and she looked down, heart thumping. If Mea had lost her parents and was raised by the hunter who found her, then why couldn't Regan have that, too? She tried for a casual tone with her next question. "How come he raised her and not other family of hers?"
"She didn't have other family that we could find except some distant cousins on Mars. She could have been fostered out, but…" Warren shrugged, grinning. "She got it into her head that she wanted us. She's always been headstrong and Mike could never say no to her."
Stone snorted as he went by, and Warren cast him a sly glance.
"None of us could ever say no to her."
The Huntress Page 7