by Kim Knox
“Understood,” she murmured.
Ramius unstrapped the holster from his left thigh and handed it to her. Her fingers closed around its warmed smoothness and she made a point of not touching him, though the temptation to ease her fingertips over his was strong. He’d given her what she needed. Now he belonged to another woman.
She cinched the belt tight around her waist and settled the heavy weapon against her thigh. “I’m not good with guns.”
“It’s a last resort.” He primed the Etuis before he glanced at her. The slow whine filled the silence, and she wanted to believe something flickered in his eyes. Wanted to believe it was concern. “Protect yourself, Chance.”
She had to wonder who he was when he wasn’t driven by the desires of others…and surprised herself by wanting to know that man. “I promised Drew we’d come back for him.”
A smile twitched across his mouth. “Something for after.”
Her heart squeezed and the insane hope rose within her that he’d been listening to her thoughts rather than her words. She held down a wince. This was why she’d never done the relationship thing. They were distracting and irritating as hell.
“They’ve breached the outer door,” Ramius muttered. “Remember, don’t rush, don’t—”
“Don’t tell a thief how to do her job.”
Humour lightened his features. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Seconds ticked by with Chance uncomfortably aware of how close she stood to Ramius. His scent threaded through the cool air and twisted her thoughts back to the warm press of his skin against hers, his mouth, his fingers—
“Chance…” The soft murmur of his voice prickled her skin and she shivered. “Focus, please.”
“Distracting you, Ramius?”
His darkened gaze slid to her and the heat there curled her fingers into her palms. Her nails dug into soft flesh. It stopped her from stroking her fingers over the smoothness of his jaw, pushing herself up on her tiptoes and sinking her teeth into his perfectly luscious lower lip. Deepening the kiss would inevitably follow. She’d pin him to the wall, strip his uniform and lick her way down his delicious body, until her mouth—
“Chance!” Her name was almost strangled, and he blew out a tight breath. His shoulders straightened. “Taunting a telepath can have consequences.”
She grinned at him. “Promise?”
He glared at her and flexed his fingers around the stock and barrel of his Etuis. “They’re on the command deck.” He frowned. “The scans are saying the ship is empty…and they’re trusting that.”
“But that’s good, right? It means Jovian troops won’t storm the ship and search every hiding place.”
“It doesn’t make sense…”
“Be thankful for some luck. I know I am.”
Ramius gave a soft, bitter laugh, then paused. He frowned. “Get ready. They’re heading this way.”
Chapter Eight
Chance stilled her mind. Playing was over. She had to let Ramius do his thing and concentrate on getting herself off the ship in one piece. She sucked in a settling breath and brushed her thoughts over her implant to make certain she’d locked it down. The tips of her fingers itched again. Moments like these made her feel wired, alive…and hell, her only other option was a spacing. Every second she was alive was a bonus.
Ramius lifted his hand. “Ready?”
She gave him a tight nod. “Ready.”
He palmed the door open and stepped out into the gangway.
A gaggle of sharp-featured techs strode past, the air charged with the streams of information surging into their implants. It itched against her skin even with her implant cut off from the surrounding tech. Chance lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders and began the bluff to get herself off the Vitesse.
Ramius strode ahead of her by half a pace. She flicked a glance at him and the familiar push for her to look anywhere else overtook her. It was a gift she envied, and it offered her some protection as it drove attention from both of them. From the front, at least.
Techs scurried past, oblivious. A single guard, wearing the green and gold Jovian uniform, stood at the end of the short corridor leading to the exit. He looked young and, from the insignia banding the sun symbol at the top of his sleeve, he was a corporal. Ramius’ unease sat in her gut. They thought the Butcher had been on the ship. The scanners said the ship was empty, but no one trusted tech that much, not enough to post a single, inexperienced guard.
Ramius stopped. His fingers gripped her arm above the elbow and then he carried on. He kept her close to the smooth coolness of the wall, blocking her body with his. The young guard pinched at the bridge of his nose and pain creased his forehead. Instinct forced him to prime the weapon he held, his knuckles white around the stock. Their feet were silent. Chance held her breath as they eased past the guard. Her heart pounded and the wild rush she’d chased for too many years surged hard in her veins. Silent curses ran through her head. Sometimes she could have too much of a good thing.
The narrow exit loomed, and Ramius stopped. Their ship sat on the lowest level of the shipyard floor. The bay beyond bustled with life, clear levels curving up into Europa’s thin atmosphere. Umbilicals tied new ships to their platforms, hulls still glistening from recent moulding. Information streamed, thickening the air and jabbing at her skin, its sharp tang mixing with the heavy scent of hull synthetics. And people were everywhere. Absolutely bloody everywhere.
She bit back a curse. They were so dead.
“Relax.”
The word burst through her scattering thoughts, and a gasp escaped her. It sounded like Ramius, but wasn’t that impossible? He was a receiver. Didn’t that mean he couldn’t broadcast his thoughts? Chance tried to fix her gaze on him…and failed. So…she was going crazy. What was new?
Ramius tugged her across the bay floor, weaving between distracted techs, administration staff and absolutely no guards. “This is wrong. This is so wrong.”
“Yes, it is.” Ramius’ reply snapped her head to him and for a moment the haze broke and she caught a glimpse of his stern face, made stark by the sharp light. “West is playing with me.”
“He wants you to get to him? That’s insane.”
Ramius shrugged and his obscuring filter kicked in. It was suddenly easier for Chance to look anywhere else than at the man who still gripped her arm in tight fingers. She kept up with his smooth, fast pace until they found the tube system. The clear-tubed hub sprouted connections out across Europa’s arid landscape to the nearby StarCluster habitations, through the transparent, heavy shielding curving around the vast open space. The air pulsed heavy with the tube propulsion systems and the pounding of human traffic. The hub was heaving with people.
Escape? Not a chance in hell. Shit.
Ramius pulled her back into the safety of one of the disused side tunnels. Shadows shrouded them, and she let out a slow breath. “I can jack us into one of the tubes.”
“No.”
His filter broken, she glared at Ramius. He stared out over the great curve of the hub, the clear shielding stretching to cover the terminal. White-skinned tubes fired up and shot off, cutting speed-blurred trails across Europa’s dry surface.
“So what are we going to do? This is the only way out of the shipyards.”
His silence and the tightness of his jaw screamed that he didn’t have a better plan. People surged around every tube terminal, officials wiring them into each emptying carriage. From the frenetic activity, it appeared they’d met with a change of shift.
“All right. Jacking.” He scrubbed at his mouth, his jaw. “But not here.”
“This is the main transport hub—”
“West is playing games.” Ramius turned down the tunnel, away from the hub. Shadows thickened around them, and the silent air tasted metallic, harsh. “And if he wants me in the residence, then he’ll have given me an out.”
Chance kept up with his fast pace. She hated the fact that she had no clue where they headed.
The temptation to open her implant to the streams of information wired into the walls was sharp and hard to resist. She had to get her information any way she could. At the moment, Ramius was her only source. “And that would be?”
“What?”
Her mouth thinned. “The out?”
“There’s a secure hub under this StarCluster. Dignitaries use it. West knows that I know that.”
Chance caught her fingers in her hair, a knot of fear tight in her gut. “This is all a trap. We could…” Her mind scrambled for its own out. “Hide. Then wait till they’ve finalised Drew, grab him and get out of here.” She hoped her unconscious wasn’t screaming what she wanted again. Hell, she could almost feel the words forming in her mouth. Stay with me. She sucked in a quick breath. “I could drop you off on the base, moon or planet of your choice. How does Earth sound?”
Ramius stopped, and her fear sharpened. The dim wash of light from the widespread ceiling globes dropped heavy shadows over his perfect face. His eyes narrowed. He lifted his hand and a finger traced light over her jaw. “You don’t have to come with me.”
His touch burned against her skin, and the insane need to kiss his palm fired through her. She’d never wanted anyone else, never had a need to be with them. The desire to stay with Ramius no matter the cost scared the shit out of her. “You or hiding out from the guards. I’m looking at equal odds of staying alive.”
Ramius winced. “Chance…”
“Regretting something?” She willed a grin she didn’t feel, needing to pull out of the mire of emotions dragging at her. “Don’t let that hold you.” Her fingers teased over the back of his hand. The contact tingled, and she spread her palm against its strength, her fingers curling. A flicker of desire in Ramius’ eyes pulsed hot, liquid need though her flesh. “Let me.”
He stepped closer, forcing her back against the smooth coldness of the metal wall. “Now’s not the time.”
Her lips brushed the warmth of his palm, her tongue-tip teasing. She grinned at his sudden indrawn breath. “I never miss an opportunity.”
“I noticed.”
The gruffness of his voice sank under her skin, and she couldn’t help herself. She pressed her hips to his and found him hard. Excitement flared. “What to play?”
Ramius’ hand eased around her neck and his mouth drew too close to hers. “A promise for after?” he murmured against her lips. “I will…” His eyes gleamed, and the flare of desire hollowed her stomach. “…devote hours to you.”
“Really?”
“Hours.”
Chance shivered and she held his gaze, willing herself to believe there would be an after, an after where she would get a certain augmented man deliciously naked. “Then it’s time to get moving.”
Ramius pulled a chaste kiss from her lips, quick, teasing, and Chance let out a soft moan. He paused. “Save that for after too.” He slid his hand down her shoulder, arm, until he found her hand. “Let’s go.”
The air chilled and its metallic taste sharpened. Ahead, the dim light turned into a wall of blackness. Ramius primed his weapon, the soft whine echoing over the metal walls, and led the way. The thickened shadows disguised a narrow staircase. “Arm yourself,” he muttered, waiting while she pulled her gun free of its holster.
Chance flexed her fingers around the barrel. She hated guns. Already her palm had a slick of sweat coating it. “Ready.”
“Have you fired a gun before?”
His voice came out of the darkness, but she knew he was frowning. “No,” she said.
Ramius was silent. “Stay close to me.”
Which was easier said than done as she negotiated the thick shadows obscuring the twisting stairs leading down below ground. The thin soles of her leather slippers let her toes curl and grip the metal edge of each tread. Her fingers skirted the wall, tips tracing over the cold metal. The urge to open her implant, have the walls splash with information that delineated her path, gnawed at her. She was blind, only a hint of grey light marking out the slow, sure movement of Ramius’ body.
She bit down the need to ask questions. A low thrum stirred the air, breaking over the soft sound of their breathing. Her heart thudded. She hated not knowing what she was walking into. It was a situation she’d never faced.
Ramius stopped and in the dim, grey light, he held up his fist. Chance stilled.
“Stay.”
She wasn’t imagining it this time. That was Ramius’ voice in her head. All right, she knew nothing about telepathy at all. She also obeyed him, watching as he followed the curve of the stairwell and disappeared. Her heart thudded, her fingers burning with their familiar itch and making her too aware of the gun in her hand.
Chance listened to each breath, letting it calm her, forcing her to find focus. She tried not to think about what Ramius was doing when he scouted ahead. Still…her ears strained to hear something over the dull thrum of distant generators. Ramius would clear a path, becoming the efficient killing machine because that was what Chloe wanted from him. Her stomach knotted and she winced. Ramius belonged to a dead woman and would until the outer governor died.
Silent obscenities ran through her head. Was his attraction to her simply a part of his curse? She winced and fought to crush her sudden unease. Jealousy, insecurity, really were bloody annoying.
“Chance.”
She jerked up her gun, her finger slick over the trigger…until her brain processed Ramius’ voice. Letting out a shaky breath, she eased the weapon down. “Sorry.”
“Nice reflex.” She heard the humour in his voice. “The way’s clear.”
Chance, her hand guiding her as it traced over the curving wall, followed him down. The shadows eased back to reveal a machine-carved cavern. Two enormous tubes stretched its length and disappeared into the far rock wall. A single white-skinned carriage sat in the nearest clear tube. Chance’s gaze darted around the open space. There was no sign of blood splatter, no scent of it in the air, no scuffmarks disturbing the dusty floor. If Ramius had removed any personnel, he’d done it well. “Was it guarded?”
“No.” Ramius ran a hand over his dark hair, smoothing it into place. “But there’s a problem.”
She padded towards the tube and stretched out her hand to almost touch the smooth, transparent surface, skimming over the governmental crest with West’s carved face at the centre of a radiating sun. Bloody man was everywhere. The live tech sparked out to her palm, ripe, strong. Her thoughts brushed over her closed implant, making ready to open it and jack the tube.
She glanced back at Ramius and frowned. “What? This is easy.”
“And that’s the problem.”
Chapter Nine
Ramius’ fingers closed tight around her wrist and stopped her from pressing her palm against the clear wall curving over the tube carriage. “He wants to be certain you’re with me.” He let out a slow breath. “And I can’t do that.”
“So how…?” He lifted his Etius-90 as he pulled her back. The rising whine of its charge filled the cold air. Chance stared at him, her heartbeat ramping. He’d been a security consultant. Didn’t he know how the tube system protected itself? “That is not going to work. It’ll reflect the force right back at you.”
Ramius frowned and lowered his weapon. He let out a hard curse. “Fine. You jack it. But when we get to the governor’s residence, you’re to stay in the tube, understand?”
Chance’s stomach knotted. She wasn’t a child or an idiot. She pulled her wrist free of his grip. “I have managed to look after myself for a while now,” she muttered. Pressing her hand against the curve of the shielding, she opened her implant. The first rush of the stream surged over her senses and forced a gasp. Everything glowed, offered possibility… She clamped her will on the need to explore a myriad of avenues. It was addictive.
The clear surface of the tube ran thick with information, and her senses stroked over it, subtle twists unlocking its security systems.
With a soft sigh, the hard surface under her pal
m softened and disappeared. The white skin of the carriage rippled and thin lines framed a doorway which, after a series of low thunks, swung inward. Scents of fresh grass and just the hint of apple took the hard, metallic edge from the air.
Chance sucked in a deep breath as Ramius pushed her into the carriage. “Close your implant,” he muttered, palming a panel beside the open door. It groaned and eased seamlessly back into place. “Done?”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him as he stalked the pale leather-lined walls, searching every shadow and behind every partition. Chance let the anger boil. Nerves and fear pushed her reaction against his over-protectiveness, she knew that, but still the knot in her gut grew tight. “Done,” she said. She’d disconnected her chip the second the doors had groaned open. “So who drives this thing?”
Chance waved a hand around the smooth curve of the interior. There were no obvious controls in the plush arrangement of white seating curving around one wall. A rounded wall in the far corner marked it out as the washroom, and there was a food unit tucked opposite the seating. Nothing jumped out at her with her implant shut… She groaned.
Ramius dropped his Etuis onto an immaculate chair. “What?”
“It needs a pilot.”
“This just gets better,” he muttered. “You’re sure?”
Chance gave him a sharp smile. “No. But it makes sense. Especially if West wanted to guarantee me turning up with you. For whatever reason.” He ignored the hint for more information. Chance flopped onto a deep seat, the material moulding perfectly to her body. A sigh escaped her. She wanted to point out that, really, they should think about getting the hell off Europa and not follow this suicidally stupid path. But she didn’t, and the reason twisted her insides tight.
She wanted Ramius. And if she were to stand any chance of a—she shied away from the word relationship, it just weirded her out—a chance with him, then he had to purge what was left of Chloe Van Der Zee from his brain.