“I wasn’t finished,” Voss said again. “I was thinking.”
“Of course you were. That’s a lot of dramatic pauses. Get to the point.”
“Jace’s real name. And if you retrieve the Skelty Key, you give it back to me.”
Holly exchanged a look with Odeon.
“I’m listening, Holly,” Shiro said in her ear. “Give her my real name. For the team.”
Yeah right, Holly thought. He just wanted to sleep with her. Well, none of them knew what Voss really did. For all they knew her connections were dangerous. Life or death kind of dangerous.
Plus, the idea of Shiro sleeping with Voss made Holly’s blood run cold.
What the hell, Shiro? Give me a break. Gross. Completely random stranger. Ready to go to bed with her.
“Jace’s name isn’t ours to give you, my friend,” Holly said.
Odeon glanced sharply at Holly, but Holly avoided his gaze. Deal with it, she thought.
“That’s too bad,” Voss said. She kept the gun pointed at them and tapped her chin with the fingers of her free hand.
“We may be able to strike a deal on the Skelty Key. Why haven’t you gone after it?” Holly asked.
“I work alone. Me against how many? Consider the odds. I know it’s on Paradise somewhere. And I also know what kind of activity happens on Paradise. And I know who frequents it and how they use it. I’m fond of my life. My body. But you, you have a team. And you clearly want it for something right now. And I don’t. So I can wait.”
“What do you use it for? You haven’t answered me.”
“Who has the gun here, doll?” Voss said arrogantly.
She was a bitch. But the kind of bitch Holly liked—confident, strong, like Charly. “Your position changed the minute you admitted you didn’t want to get the key yourself and that there’s something we can do for you.”
Voss thought for a minute. “True. Well played. Fine,” Voss shrugged. “I steal high end property from people with a lot to spare. They barely miss what’s gone. That’s all you need to know. Also, Aimee Voss isn’t my real name.”
Shiro sighed in her ear. “Holly, just tell her my name. Let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time. There’s a ship leaving for Paradise in two hours. We can make it.”
Like hell she’d tell this hot, clever bitch Shiro’s name. The last thing they needed was to have the woman tracking them to steal back the key. Also, Shiro was Holly’s. Not like that. Just like, as in a team. They were a team, and the last thing Holly needed was Shiro being lured away by Voss.
There was only one chance of escape. And Holly knew it. And she didn’t want to do it, but lines had been drawn and Holly knew deep inside that she wasn’t going to barter for Shiro. The key only had one use to her, so she didn’t care about giving it up after that. She’d use it if Voss would let them go.
She prepared herself for the opening. She rehearsed in her head a few times as Voss kept talking about Paradise and where it had last been seen. Holly hoped Shiro was listening and taking notes.
Voss backed up a few steps. Her arm holding the gun started to waver. Voss looked back over her shoulder to see where the bed was. At that moment, Holly grabbed for her own gun.
“Don’t move,” Holly said.
Voss whipped her head back around and her eyes narrowed, and she muttered a curse under her breath. “Ah, a standoff.”
“I’ve killed before,” Holly threatened.
“Should that scare me?” Voss said.
“It should, actually.”
“Holly, what are you doing? No, this isn’t safe. Don’t do it. Just tell her my damn name,” Shiro said. “Please Holly.” The amount of anguish in his voice was actually surprising.
“Just let us go. We’ll give you the goddamn key when we’re done with it.” Holly began edging for the door. “Tell me how to contact you. And then we’ll leave. We’ll get the key. We’ll let you have it.”
“I’ll find you. I’ll come for the key, and I might not be so nice next time.”
Holly stared at her, wondering if she should shoot her in the foot or something. That seemed like a terrible idea.
Voss sighed. “I’ll give you to the count of three, then I’ll begin to shoot. Oh, and when I come for the key, I’m coming for Jace.”
Odeon pushed Holly toward the door, and Holly kept her gun pointed at Voss.
“1 . . . . 2 . . .” Voss counted.
They got to the door and ran.
32
Flights to Paradise were a bit less crowded. No one wanted to go there, despite the name. Maybe there had once been plans for it to be a place of many resorts like Itzcap, and perhaps there were some beautiful spots on the moon. But overall the port cities were dirty and grimy and full of factories that fed the material needs of the other moons.
This would be Holly’s first time on Paradise. She sat on the edge of a bed in a cabin that she had to herself and watched out the window as the blue and green of Itzcap receded behind her. It was going to be a longer journey to Paradise—it was on the far side of Ixion, which was a massive nuisance considering how little time they had at this point. She took the gun out of her waist holster and put it on the bolted-down nightstand next to the large bed and then laid down.
This whole thing was a farce. Holly wasn’t a thief. She wasn’t a clever, witty, leader of a crew that was going to pull off a fabulous theft. She was a school teacher. Dressed like an adventurer, wielding a gun like she knew what it was all about.
Giving up was becoming less and less of an option, the further she pushed the team into the job. And she wanted to end it, but doing that left her with even less than she began with, because she would surely lose the relationships she’d fostered. Maybe Charly would forgive her. Oh and she’d owe Xadrian the money he’d fronted her. He probably wouldn’t just kindly get over that debt.
When she got back to Kota, she’d need to take a few hours to practice with the gun. Holding onto it and aiming it at people felt so uncomfortable, not to mention disingenuous. Because the only way she’d kill someone would be if she really felt like her life was in danger—Voss hadn’t really seemed capable of shooting Holly.
And she also planned to find an apartment as soon as possible. So that when the money came through, she could get out of Lucy’s house.
“Hey guys, I’m on comms today,” Charly’s voice said in Holly’s ear. “Just letting you know. Darius had some things to do today, and Torden’s holding down the front of Surge.”
Holly unmuted her mic. “Charly, hey.” Her friend’s voice was a comforting sound.
“So, on your way to Paradise, then?”
“Yeah, can you believe it? This job—I’m getting anxious that we’re not going to make it on time.”
“Well, Darius did some searching before he left for the day, and he pinpointed where the key should be on Paradise.”
“Great.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Why not?”
“It’s the shit section. The docks where all the shipping containers are. Basically the place where, if you want to get rid of a body, er, you know?”
“So, not like a spa or some kind of gorgeous resort, like what we were treated to on Itzcap.”
“Right, exactly. Might as well be a cemetery or a crematorium.”
“Wow. Anyway, is there a part of Paradise that’s nice?”
“Oooh, sick burn. Hey, do we have this line to ourselves? How are the boys?”
“They should be on, but I don’t know—they’re not with me. The Cold Blossom isn’t exactly crowded. Surprise, no one wants to go to Paradise. We’ve all got our own cabins. They upgraded us out of pity—‘oh you’re going to Paradise? Tragic. Here’s your consolation upgrade.’” Holly laughed. “So we should be to the moon by morning on Kota. We’ll need the most exact coordinates. So have them sent to our phones.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“Wait, what? That’s a no, on the boss thing.”
“You’re the leader. I’m calling you boss.”
“Please don’t.”
“If it was Shiro or Darius, they’d be like, ‘hell yes. Call me boss. For I am the boss.’”
“Well, that’s them.”
Shiro’s voice broke into the conversation. “I beg to differ. I would not want to be called ‘boss.’ I’d insist on either captain or master.”
“Shit, Torden needs my help. Got to run. Be back later.”
“Where are you, Holly?” Shiro asked.
“In my cabin.”
“Come have a drink with me. There are some things we need to discuss.”
“That sounds daunting. I think I’ll stay in my room.”
“I’ll buy you a beer. I thought you’d be drunk already anyway. You sound remarkably OK.”
“I’m too stressed to care if the ship explodes.” But now that he mentioned it, and she was thinking about it, she felt the anxiety filling her gut. “Dammit. Now I do need a drink. I’ll be there in a minute if I can make it through the corridor without vomiting. Is Odeon with you?”
“No. I think he’s sleeping in his cabin.”
She got up and, wavering, put her gun back in her waist holster and headed out. She steadied herself down the corridor using the brass railing. The Cold Blossom was just a tad less lavish than the Emerald Pioneer, and the red carpet through the narrow hallway was worn and dirty. The clinking sounds from the dining room guided her through the hallways.
“Almost here?” Shiro asked.
“Yes.”
“I have a beer waiting for you. Some kind of imperial ale. Your favorite.”
“You know my favorites? Already?”
“Of course I’m aware of what drinks you order. What sort of gentleman doesn’t pay attention?”
“I’m sure you have some decent reasons for caring what the ladies drink, and it’s not got anything to do with being a gentleman. In fact,” she said, as she reached him at his table next to a window. He had a bottle of beer open and poured already into a long slender glass. It was a golden hazy, unfiltered beer that almost glowed in its perfection. Her mouth watered the instant she saw it. She sat down. “In fact, I suspect the reason you pay attention is the exact opposite of being a gentleman.”
He laughed. “It depends on one’s definition of gentleman.”
“Protector. Chivalric knight. Defending the weak and oppressed.”
“A very good definition. But mine includes a few other things.”
“Such as?”
“How to treat a lady.”
“I thought that was encompassed in chivalry.”
“Romantically. In the bedroom.”
“Then you mean, erotically.”
“Some people don’t separate romance from eros.”
Holly thought again about her jealousy of Aimee Voss. And her impulsive reaction to not want to share Shiro with the other woman. It troubled her. And as Shiro spoke of romance and eros, a different kind of hunger twisted inside her.
“What was it you wanted to discuss?” Holly asked, clearing her throat. Nothing Shiro had done or said gave her any indication that he thought much of Holly beyond what she offered him—money. She shoved the feelings away and avoided eye contact with him until she could be sure that her face had lost the heat that had risen to her cheeks.
“How’s your beer?” he asked, sipping his cocktail, his dark eyes studying her. There was a glint in them, something mischievous.
“Honestly? It tastes divine. But every beer has tasted divine since I got out of prison.”
“Ah, that’s right. The lady has been to prison. I forget that’s how you met Charly.”
Again with the blushing. “Lady? You make me feel so old. Like a dame or something. For the queen. Back in ye olde days.”
“How was prison?”
“It sucked.”
“I haven’t been caught yet. For anything. I’m just too clever, I suppose.”
She stared at him, wondering if she should defend herself or tease him. He probably didn’t care. So she simply nodded. “So. Jace, eh? That’s a very dashing name.”
“Exactly. That’s what I wanted to speak with you about. Why didn’t you tell her my real name? That little situation could have been much worse. If someone gives you an out like that, take it next time. Why protect my name? An identity is easy to change. I’m not sold on Shiro Oahu.”
Holly started. “Wait, Shiro Oahu isn’t your real name?”
“No. It’s an alias.”
“Does anyone use their real names? Odeon isn’t his real name either. Is Darius really, Darius? And Charly?”
“Yes, actually Charly is her real name. Well, Charlotte. But you probably knew that. I guess that means Holly Drake is your real name.”
“Wolfe. Drake was my married name. But I like the way it sounds.”
“You were married?”
“Do you not—” she watched his face. No, apparently he didn’t. He couldn’t know, then, the reason she’d gone to prison. “Yes. Was. But more about you. I didn’t know that it wasn’t your real name, Shiro,” she explained, steering away from the subject of her time in prison and all the terrible things that had transpired before that time. Prison itself had been a sunny walk on the beach on Itzcap compared to the dark age of her marriage to Graf. She continued speaking, looking directly at him. “But I wouldn’t simply hand over my team to the first person who asked. It was deceptively easy, what she asked, and I was tempted, because we’re getting down to the wire on how soon we need to move on the jewels.”
Shiro lifted his cocktail glass and sipped it, watching her over the rim. There was something in his eyes, but Holly looked away.
“Anyway,” she said, sitting back, and taking a long drink that drained most of her beer. “I don’t know why she wanted your real name. But she was going to have to tear it from me letter by letter if she had really wanted it.”
They sat together in the relative quiet of the dining room. Soon a singer moved to take the stage. It was a Constellation wearing a sequined-black dress that contrasted with her skin like stars and space. The room hushed as she began. Holly glanced once more at Shiro. He caught her gaze and leaned toward her, and touched her hand lightly so that she couldn’t quite pull away. It bothered her, made her feel trapped, and reminded her of all the times Graf wouldn’t let her get away.
“Thank you for putting the safety of the team first.”
She pulled her hand away, searching Shiro’s face for the same kind of emotion Graf's expression always conveyed. There was none of that here. Just an earnestness and something else.
“Ah, sorry for that. The touch.” He seemed startled.
“It’s nothing,” she said. You can touch me, she started to say, but caught herself. Not the right thing to say. Plus, as the leader, that just wouldn’t be right.
The singer had a breathy frail style that was ill-suited for the crowd. Her tune was poignant and sad, and formed Holly’s guts into a sharp knife of loss and loneliness that cut through her armor and defenses, hitting the quick of her with tiny pricks of despair. She finished her beer. “Thanks for that drink. Very kind of you.”
Shiro was watching Holly, his eyes thoughtful. He mimed a hat-tipping gesture, not using his bowler because he wasn’t wearing it for once. “I know you don’t need my approval, Holly, but that was a good choice. I told you to do something because I was also putting the team first. But you put all of us before the easy fix.”
She blushed. Accepting praise had always been difficult, especially after it had been used against her for so long by Graf. She found herself waiting for the but. But, I’m the only one who can see that. But, you’d never make it without me. I’m the reason you had the chance to do that or become that. Or that anyone can see how accomplished you are. You’d be nothing without me. No one can see that about just a girl. They see her husband first, then they might see how great she is.
This whole discussion, together with the
song, was too much.
“Thanks. I need to sleep now. Tomorrow will be hard enough without adding exhaustion to it.”
“I’ll walk you,” Shiro said, rising as his gaze skirted around the room. He gripped his lion-head cane in one hand. Ah good, at least one of them was on the lookout for threats that might be real, rather than the ghosts currently accosting Holly’s good sense.
They made it to Holly’s cabin without incident. Holly fumbled with the key, her fingers clumsy after the imperial ale, and then finally managed to get it open. Shiro followed her into her cabin.
Just inside the door she turned to tell him goodnight, not expecting him to be right behind her, inside the room already. His chest was harder than she expected and bumped her nose against it. She’d never noticed he was so tall.
She held her nose, “Ow, god,” she said.
He laughed softly. “Sorry.”
She backed away from him and turned to head to the window to put some distance between them. Was it just her or was she running from him? And still he came closer. Her heart raced. That strange longing in her gut was coiling up, twisting itself into knots, tighter and tighter.
It was the alcohol. It was the . . .
“I just wasn’t expecting you to be right behind me,” she said, her voice nasally from how her hand covered it.
“Yes, that much is obvious.” He was still right behind her. She turned again to move away from him, but the window was right behind her.
Why was she running from him? She wasn’t imagining it. He was like a hunter.
Through the murky filter of alcohol, fatigue, and a very long time devoid of any kind of romantic touch, Holly knew what she had to do. She stopped running and turned, throwing her shoulders back. He stopped a few inches from her. He held his cane in front of him, both hands tightly wrapped around it, and there was an intriguing gleam in his eye.
“Thanks. You can leave now. By the way, very chivalrous of you. I’m good now.”
He came up short, his head lifting. “Ah yes, of course. Just wanted to make sure you got to your cabin safely.”
The Colossus Collection Page 21