Rayven's Keep

by Wolfe, Kylie

  “Wait, Siren is going to instruct me? I thought you would.”

  “No. I’ve a ship to run, in case you’ve forgotten. Siren is more than capable of running you through the fundamentals. It will be good for both of you. Just think of what you can learn from each other.” Nick hid a grin behind his mug then finished off his drink.

  “Not exactly what I had in mind,” she muttered.

  “Did you say something?”

  “Um...nope. So how is this going to work? You know, Siren teaching me and all.” She tilted her head.

  “Siren.” Nick raised his voice and winked at Tru. “Implement level one ship introduction for Tru. Guide her through the basics and answer any questions she may have. Give her access through one of the portable tablets. I want daily updates on her progress.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Excellent. I will leave you two to get started then.”

  * * * *

  Tru watched him saunter to the bridge, not sure what had happened. He never seemed to react the way she expected, and she’d been prepared to argue long and hard for what she wanted. The fact he gave in so quickly left her wondering if she’d missed something important in their exchange.

  She was not lying when she told him she needed to feel she had some control and enough knowledge to help in a crisis. The attack the day before had nearly paralyzed her with fear, and it had taken a long time to quit shaking in the aftermath. Through the long hours of the night, she’d struggled with the truth of her precarious situation and her culpability in bringing it about.

  She’d relived the events over and over, aware of Nick’s quick actions and his absolute command at the helm. He was the reason they were still alive. Her guilt had only increased when she heard him thrashing around in his bunk and recognized he was in the grip of another nightmare. She’d wanted to offer comfort, but knew from her previous unpleasant experience not to touch him. She hated being nothing more than a millstone around his neck, helpless to do anything and relying on him for protection. She wanted to do something to show she wasn’t incapable and weak.

  Through her soul searching, she’d realized approaching him to learn more about the ship would not only mitigate some of her feelings of helplessness and ignorance, but would force him to give her the attention she craved.

  Hands on her hips, she chewed her bottom lip. Her plan hadn’t worked out the way she’d wanted. She was going to learn about the ship all right, but he was just as far out of reach as he had been. It wasn’t fair.

  “I have downloaded a beginning program for you,” Siren said. “Shall we begin?”

  Tru sighed and picked up the tablet on the table. “Why not.”

  “I can think of many reasons, if that is your wish and you care to explore them,” Siren replied.

  * * * *

  Tru was immersed in her studies, one finger twirling a loose curl when she sensed Nick approach. She raised her head and watched his loose-limbed stride as he crossed the small space before stopping a short distance away to lean against a locker. She loved watching him move, loved the contained power and innate grace of his movements.

  He had a razor-sharp mind, which challenged her. She enjoyed discussing her lessons over their evening meal, particularly when she had mastered a difficult concept and made excuses to seek him out during the day. The odd thing was he didn’t seem to object to the interruptions, which pleased her. He was always on her mind, no matter what she was doing.

  She looked up from her notes and caught his eye. “Do you have a minute, Nick? I want to run something by you.”

  He straightened from where he’d been leaning and took a seat across from her, slouching comfortably. Arms crossed over his chest, he waited. She was beginning to understand that look on his face, that gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

  “I’ve been giving this a great deal of thought and you need to make Siren real,” she said.

  “What?” Dumbfounded, he sat up in his chair and looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

  “Well, not real in the sense of a physical body ‘real.’”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what kind of real are you talking about then?”

  “Siren is a part of this crew, right? She interacts with us, is capable of handling this ship, follows orders and is developing opinions.” She gestured expansively as she spoke and leaned forward in her seat, enthusiasm animating her face.

  “It was the way she was designed, Tru. You know that.”

  “I know, but it is a little weird to be talking to a disembodied voice. Siren and I have been discussing this and we think you should give her a holographic presence.”

  “You discussed this with Siren? Are you kidding me?” He shook his head.

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t kid about something this important.”

  “Do you have any idea what you are suggesting here? Her design is complex. There’re too many components, too much intricate programming involved to even consider that kind of change. It is impossible.”

  “Not for you,” she replied, leaving him nothing more to say. “Just think about it, okay?”

  “Captain, emergency imminent,” Siren announced. “Solar storm approaching.”

  “Tru, get to the bridge and buckle in. Now. Siren, raise shields!” He ran to the front of the ship, jumped over the arm of his chair and slapped the shoulder harness on. “Hurry, Tru. Get the lead out.”

  “Shields raised.”

  “Siren, shut down all electrical unless required for life support. All power to shields.”

  The lights shut off, except those on the helm, casting eerie blue shadows on their faces. Tru’s apprehension rose as she tested her shoulder harness and fidgeted in her seat. She looked to him, and drew strength from his rock-solid presence. She didn’t know much about solar storms–only enough to be frightened. She clutched the armrest.

  “Impact in three, two...” Siren intoned matter-of-factly.

  The invisible wave hit them and electrical sparks flashed over the ship’s nose, coming at them with terrifying swiftness. Blistering shocks pulsed along her skin and nerves felt as if they were on fire, burning her up from the inside out.

  “Shields strong, life support holding,” Siren continued.

  The ship bucked and lurched, snapping Tru’s head forward then back.

  “Siren, how long until we’re out of the storm?” Nick demanded, while he continued to monitor the power to the shields and make rapid adjustments only he understood.

  The ship’s engine groaned and metal screeched from the force of the storm. Lights flickered on the helm, sparks flying from wires affected by the solar pulses battering them.

  “Hang on, Tru. We’re almost through,” he assured her while he swiftly rerouted connections.

  “Storm end in five. Four. Three.” Siren counted down and suddenly they were free.

  The ship gave one more shudder and then all was quiet, except for the hiss of overheated engines and the crackle of static arcing from the wiring.

  “Status,” he commanded, his voice calm. A muscle jumped in his cheek from clenching his teeth.

  “Fuel cells low. Shields on right quadrant compromised. Life support at eighty percent,” Siren replied, the usual melodious tones of her voice absent.

  Tru shivered and looked at Nick. “So that was a solar storm, huh?” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. Slowly, she forced one finger at a time to release her death grip on the chair arms and tried to stop the audible hitch in her breathing. They were lucky the ship hadn’t been torn apart by the storm.

  He turned and looked at her. “Yes. That was a solar storm.”

  His lips twitched and then slid into a lopsided grin, revealing strong, white teeth. Mesmerized, she watched his eyes lighten to rich amber and the lines bracketing his eyes crinkle with the first signs of a real smile. It changed him, replacing the stern planes and angles of his face with an attractiveness she found hard to resist. He looked exhilarated, almost bo
yish. Handsome. Her heart kicked up a beat. Then he astounded her by throwing back his head and letting out a laughing whoop. It echoed through the dark cavern of the ship and drew a shaky laugh from her in response, even though she didn’t feel like laughing.

  “Captain, we will need to break flight plan and replace the damaged fuel cells,” Siren said. “Scans show a space station one standard day away. Do you wish to contact?”

  Nick unbuckled his harness then leaned over to unfasten Tru’s. Not taking his eyes off her, he replied, “Contact the station and get permission to emergency dock. Arrange for the necessary fuel cell replacement, payment through Rayven Security.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Do a diagnostic on ship’s functions and then report. Route required power to engines and shields–life support function to minimum.”

  “Acknowledged. Zeegret Station is prepared to assist and fuel cells will be ready when we arrive.”

  “Excellent. Good job, Siren,” Nick said, a sincere note in his words.

  She made a sound suspiciously like a purr, and Tru began to understand what a remarkable piece of design she was. Her lightning quick processing had gotten them through the storm with minimal damage.

  Nick rose, and then helped Tru out of her seat. Her legs were wobbly, and she leaned against him, grateful for the strong arm he placed around her waist.

  “I vote we indulge in a celebratory drink. We got through the storm in one piece and I, for one, could use it,” he said, leading her through the dimly lit ship to the crew quarters. His voice still thrummed with the remnants of a battle fought and won.

  “Drink? I don’t drink.” She was bewildered, still fighting the effects of an adrenaline rush and shaken by the full force of his smile. A drink was the last thing on her mind. What she desperately wanted to do was crawl into her bunk, pull the covers over her head and hide. Reaction hit her hard, and she started to shake, her muscles jumping in uncontrolled spasms.

  “I want to go home,” she whispered, head bowed.

  All of a sudden, it was too much for her. She wanted to be surrounded by familiar things, safe from the dangers she’d landed herself in, and away from Nick. Learning about the ship hadn’t helped. She’d still been scared spitless when the storm hit. She was no help at all, no matter what she told herself. She found it hard to understand the exhilaration she saw on his face from a storm that had left her petrified and lost.

  He stopped and she knew he’d heard the tremor in her voice. His touch was gentle as he lifted her head so he could see her face. She could see the sympathy in his expression and looked away, biting her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She knew it wouldn’t take much to come completely undone and it was the last thing she wanted to do.

  He widened his stance and drew her into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He held her close absorbing the tremors wracking her body, offering comfort. She burrowed into his warmth, feeling his strength surround her and was grateful.

  “It will be okay. I will keep you safe,” he murmured into her hair. “The storm is over.”

  “I wish I’d never gone to Lodestone,” she whimpered, her voice muffled in the stretchy fabric of his shirt. “I don’t think I’m cut out for adventure.”

  Nick chuckled. It rumbled under her ear and stopped her slide into self-pity. It was as effective as water dashed in her face.

  “Tru Creighton, you amaze me.” He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head and hugged her harder. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve stood up to everything thrown at you and come out fighting. Afraid of adventure? I don’t think so.”

  His words had a bracing effect. He’d reminded her she wasn’t a quitter. Creightons never gave in and she didn’t intend to be the first. Standing in the shelter of his arms, listening to his heart beat steadily under her cheek helped push aside some of the terror. As tempting as the thought of wrapping him around her like a security blanket was, she gathered herself and stepped out of his arms. Her smile was a little unsteady, but genuine. With a tentative touch, she cupped the curve of his cheek, feeling the rasp of whiskers against her skin.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He searched her face for one long moment and then nodded. “You’re welcome.” His voice was a dark caress, its tone deep and with just enough gravel to send her nerve endings into overdrive. His expression might have returned to its familiar impassive mask, but his gaze was alive with things she desperately wanted to understand. She had trouble looking away from him, captured by the desire she thought she saw in the shadows of his dark eyes.

  “I think I want to go to bed. To sleep. I need to sleep. Alone. Not that I don’t usually, you understand.” Scowling, she clamped her mouth shut to stop the flow of words. The urge to step back into his arms was almost overwhelming. What if she were wrong?

  And there it was again, a devastating smile, starting in his eyes this time and moving slowly across his lips, tempting her.

  “Sleep well, Tru,” he murmured.

  She fled, knowing he watched her from where he stood in the shadowed room. His absolute stillness heightened her awareness of him as she retreated to the sleeping quarters.

  The slide of material over sensitized skin made her hyper-aware of cool silk and heated flesh as she undressed behind the privacy screen.

  Confused by the emotional upheavals of the day, and her feelings for him, she crawled into her bunk and tried to ignore the heat pooling in her belly. She punched her pillow and searched for a comfortable position to sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Nick was no stranger to the tumult of feelings coursing through his body. He’d felt the punch-drunk assault of adrenaline many times in his career. He understood the heady rush of euphoria once the danger had passed and knew firsthand the reckless need for physical release in its aftermath. He recognized it a very human response to the need to reaffirm life continued.

  All those feelings and needs made his hands shake and drawing breath into his oxygen-starved lungs difficult. He wanted to follow Tru to her bed and sink into her warmth with a painful intensity leaving his muscles taut and his emotions a tangled mess.

  If the situation were different, he would have gone with his friends to a tavern and indulged in the usual male bonding ritual of congratulatory back-thumping and drinking until he was either too drunk to stand or had found a bed partner. A sobering thought. He’d been younger then, still idealistic and sure of his ability to survive what life threw at him. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and he’d learned surviving was sometimes almost too painful to be endured.

  To let her walk away had cost him. The heavy thud of his heartbeat pulsed in his temple and restless energy held muscles rigid. He called himself ten kinds of a fool, even though he knew he did the right thing. He ran a hand across the back of his neck before he went in search of a canister of ale he knew was onboard. He didn’t drink often, but tonight promised to be long and lonely.

  After he snagged the chilled canister, he returned to the bridge. Slouching in his chair, he nursed the drink and stared moodily into space.

  * * * *

  Tru was freezing and woke from sleep curled in a tight ball. The temperature of the ship had dropped when life support functions were lowered. Shivering, she debated leaving the dubious warmth of her bed and searching for another covering but it would take too much effort. Instead she tightened her grip on the blankets, bringing them closer to her cold nose. Her teeth chattered as her discomfort increased.

  “Scoot over,” Nick urged, his tone brusque, as he nudged her hip with a knee planted on the side of the bed. “It’s too damn cold to sleep alone.”

  Shocked out of her drowsy misery, she reared up enough to look over her shoulder at the solid presence looming over her. “I have no intention of sharing this bed with you.”

  “You might enjoy keeping me awake with your chattering teeth, but I don’t intend to suffer through a cold night when we can share our warmth. Now, move
over.”

  His tone brooked no argument, and Tru moved before she thought. He lifted her blankets and slid in beside her. With a flick of his wrists, he spread his blankets over hers and then tried to settle himself without touching her. His broad shoulders took up most of the available space, making her hunch to keep an appropriate distance between them. She was uncomfortable, and the strangeness of having him so close rattled her. She’d never shared her bed with anyone. He muttered things she tried not to hear as he shifted, his elbow jabbing her in the back.

  “Screw it,” he said. Turning on his side he faced her back and hauled her against his chest, a heavy arm wrapped around her middle.

  She let out a squeak of surprise, but the heat radiating from him felt delicious. Helpless to stop herself, she wiggled closer to settle into the curve of his body, desperate for the warmth. Ignoring the nagging little voice warning her she was asking for trouble, she relaxed, grateful for the heat he generated.

  He hissed when her cold feet tangled with his legs. Surrounded by his clean male scent, she swallowed and tried to force her mind off the fact she was cradled in his arms.

  The novelty of being this close to him, of feeling him pressed against her was an unexpected pleasure. She didn’t let herself dwell on the fact he could easily have covered her with another blanket and remained in his bunk. She didn’t want to speculate on his reasoning, just wanted to enjoy the moment of intimacy. Too tired to fight it any more or to think too deeply about his motivation, she slowly allowed the tension to leave and exhaustion to take over. A smile twitched on her lips when she heard his faint groan as she shifted to nestle her hips more comfortably against the firm length of his body. She dropped into a sound sleep.

  She woke alone in the early hours and stretched muscles languid from sleep. Rolling over, she snuggled against the pillow, which still carried Nick’s scent. He hadn’t been out of bed long because his side was still warm. Part of her wished he was with her, but another was very grateful she didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of waking up with him in her narrow bunk.