Slip Point Page 9

  Jayce steered the ship comfortably, showing no sign that his usual vessel was far smaller and nimbler. Behind them came the Pangur.

  “There,” she said, sighting an asteroid just large enough in diameter. “You’ll have to swing around it pretty close.”

  “I can do it. I’ll follow this trajectory.” Numbers scrolled by on her console. “Get the slip coordinates, dammit!”

  Shayalin tore her eyes from the sensor screens and began calculating like a four-dimensional madwoman.

  The Adannaya suddenly lurched to one side.

  Shayalin grabbed at her console. “What are you doing?”

  “They fired,” Jayce said shortly. “I thought you didn’t want your ship hit.”

  She dug her stylus furiously into the tablet. Then her hand jerked and drew a long, jagged line across her work as the ship twisted and banked. Aequiti were not meant to spiral—merchant ships rarely had to execute fancy maneuvers—but that was exactly what they were doing. Shayalin refused to check the sensors and focused on her numbers, even as the Adannaya abruptly lifted up and dipped down again, as though it were hiccoughing.

  Throughout the gyrations, though, there was never the telltale shudder of her ship getting struck.

  She didn’t have time to double-check her figures, as she usually liked to do, so she fed them directly into the console. “I’m done,” she said. Now they had to wait for just the right moment when they’d be obscured from the Pangur’s sensors. “Are we still going to make the same spot you originally mapped out?”

  “Now,” Jayce said, and Shayalin’s hands reflexively triggered the slip.

  She almost dissolved in relief as her screens told her they were near the Atian spoke. They were on the wrong side of the barricade, but given her haste in making the calculations, their position was near-miraculous. Another slip, calculated with more care, would take them where they needed.

  Jayce turned to her, grinning. “That was tight for a moment or two back there.” But despite the strain it must have taken on him, he looked easy and relaxed in his seat. As though he belonged there as the pilot of her ship.

  She had to admit she never would have been able to avoid the pirates like he had—her nerves still sang with exhilaration from that flight. And she couldn’t remember ever being this infuriated with him.

  She stood and stalked out of the bridge.

  He came after her, of course. He tried to grasp her shoulder but she spun around, jerking away from him. He gave her a measuring look and crossed his arms, unprovokable. “What’s wrong? You’re acting like I’ve got the plague.”

  “What would you prefer?” she asked, letting her voice go silky. “Something more like this?”

  She picked up his hand. With a look of surprise, he let her. She folded down his fingers except for the index and brought it to her lips. Before he could pull away, she enclosed it in the hot wetness of her mouth and, keeping her eyes on his, sucked.

  He groaned. The sound stirred her—she remembered drawing that noise out of him while on her knees before him, back on Centuris, and the same thrill was there in eliciting this response from him. She’d meant to stalk away at this point, but she’d take the game just a little further, torment him just a little more…

  She twisted her head from side to side as she dragged her lips up the length of his finger, her tongue swirling as well. When she reached the tip she let her teeth graze his skin lightly. She felt his body jerk in response.

  Then she repeated it on the next finger, taking her time.

  When all five of his fingers were wet, so was she. Did he still taste the same? Her hand drifted downward. It snagged on his belt. With its holster and gun.

  She fiercely reminded herself who he was—a Corps pilot who happened to be assigned to her commission, not just her old lover—and pulled back.

  “Well,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, “that was fun.” But her voice trembled on the last word, and when she tried to brush past him she made the mistake of staying within reach.

  He slapped one palm on the wall just in front of her. Then he set his other hand behind her. She turned to face him, backing up against the wall. He had her trapped in the space between his arms.

  “Don’t you remember what they say on Centuris?” he said, almost pleasantly. His smile had an edge.

  She had to try twice before she could speak. “Finish what you start.”

  His mouth descended upon hers. She responded by parting her lips and pressing her body to his. Feeling the hard ridge of his erection brought a brief relief, then even greater hunger. She arched her hips, rubbing herself against that hardness. There were just a few layers of cloth between them…

  She squirmed in his hold, trying to get more of him, but he misunderstood it as an attempt at escape and transferred his hold on her wrists into one hand. The other, now free, slipped under her shirt and cupped her breast. The feel of skin upon skin was shocking and she tried to move her head to one side to gasp, but he only took the opportunity to move his lips to her neck.

  That was unfair. He knew that was a sensitive spot for her. She melted against him and moaned. Loudly.

  They paused like the guilty teenagers they’d once been, wondering if they’d been overheard, but there was only silence.

  Shayalin took this as license to work at his belt, but he set her aside with barely a glance and left her staring after him.

  He returned almost immediately, his face set in grim lines.

  “Quynh’s gone.”

  “What?” Her arousal extinguished, she went into the room to see for herself. The doctor wasn’t there either. There was no sign of a struggle—the bed was still neatly made. “Maybe they’re just somewhere else.”

  They divided the ship between them and met up again in Quynh’s cabin all too soon with equally grim expressions.

  “Keaton’s gone, too, and so is her kit, so at least whoever took them must care about Quynh and her baby’s health.”

  Shayalin felt a sudden chill. “No. Keaton’s the one who took her. The shuttle’s gone.”

  “Her own doctor?”

  “The premier warned me that Purists had infiltrated everywhere,” Shayalin said. “Even here, I guess.” She hadn’t thought his words would apply to his own handpicked members of this mission.

  “Why didn’t she just kill them, then?” Jayce asked.

  “Remember how strongly she felt about how we shouldn’t kill anyone on Cuoramin?” They’d all been agreed on that point, but Keaton had made the first, loud objection even before their planning had gotten underway. “I think she really does hold life to be sacrosanct. She’s an obstetrician, after all.”

  “On the other hand,” he said slowly, “I think finding out the baby was a clone truly horrified her. She didn’t say a word in that conversation.”

  “She didn’t know already?”

  He shook his head. “The premier didn’t want me to tell her. He wanted to be sure she would join us. There aren’t all that many Atian doctors with her specialty on other side of the barricade.”

  “So where would she have gone?”

  “We need to figure that out fast,” he said, heading for the bridge.

  She looked around the empty room one last time in frustration, then whirled on Jayce. “What kind of guard are you?”

  He turned to face her. “Do you really want to stand around and blame me,” he said, “or do you want to actually start trying to find her?”

  She swallowed the rest of her anger. He was right—they had to move quickly to try to recover Quynh. And she was as much at fault for distracting him. “Sorry. Let’s find her.”

  It wasn’t too hard to guess. Their slip had brought them close enough to a barricade ship for a shuttle to make it. The other spokes had already demonstrated their distrust of Atian negotiations with the aliens. Keaton would have likely counted on a kinder reception of whatever beliefs she held.

  Worse, the Adannaya’s power stores had been drai
ned by the fast flying and the slip, so they couldn’t go much faster than cruising speed. With its head start, the shuttle would probably reach the barricade ship before they could catch it.

  “I can’t believe we let her stroll off the ship,” Shayalin said, pacing. “Maybe the doctor slipped us an aphrodisiac.”

  Jayce shot her a fierce look. “Don’t do that.”

  She took an involuntary step backward. “Do what?”

  “Tell me that this—” He closed the distance between them and jerked her into his arms, kissing her with brazen possession and setting her senses ablaze with the feel of his body against hers. “Don’t try to tell me that this wasn’t started years ago,” he breathed. “Don’t pretend that this is something chemical someone else concocted. Don’t act like you don’t want me for any other reason than that you do.” He claimed her mouth again.

  She rammed an elbow into his stomach and spun out of his hold.

  “Sorry,” she said after a minute of watching him lean against the wall, pale. She’d panicked because he’d been right—their attraction was nothing new or artificial—but she wasn’t about to admit it.

  He didn’t open his eyes. “That’s all right. It’ll help me remember not to grab you in the future.”

  His lack of anger immediately melted hers. She walked up to him and touched his cheek very gently, which made him look at her.

  “In the future,” she said, “if you want me moaning about how much I want you…well, yeah, there are better ways of accomplishing that.”

  There was a familiar gleam in his eye now. She had just dared him, and he had just accepted the challenge.

  “Right now,” she said hastily, “we have other business to take care of.”

  He nodded, tamping down on that smoldering heat, but she knew it would flare back up later. She forced her breathing to calm.

  “So we need to get on that ship,” she said.

  “Getting on won’t be that hard,” he said. “We’ll tell them the truth.”

  “Secrecy, remember?”

  “Not about what we’re doing. But who we are. There are legit reasons for a Corpsman to visit a barricade ship.”

  “And for me?” She realized as soon as she asked and shot him a dirty look. “No. I am not going to be your tame little captive.”

  “The last thing they’d expect you to be,” he said with a wry smile, “is tame.”

  “No one’s ever come close to catching me,” she said.

  “You’re worried about your reputation? With these stakes?”

  How could she make him understand? “You get to pretend,” she said. “I don’t. If I do this, I’ll really be a prisoner. I’ve never been caught, Jayce. It’s not pride. It’s survival.”

  He laid her palm over his chest and covered it with both his hands. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

  She closed her eyes, felt the steadiness of his heartbeat and the warmth of his grip. Of course she trusted him. He’d never betrayed her. She was the one who’d left him.

  “All right,” she said with a sigh, and he held her hand a moment longer before letting go.

  “I’ll bring you in and say I was on special assignment to track you down. Naturally I can’t take you in to Albarz, but I’m tired of toting you around, so they’re my next pick. Of course, I’ll want to oversee how they handle you.”

  She smiled suddenly.

  “What?” he asked in suspicion.

  “Guess how we’re going to get back off that military ship.”

  His eyes grew vague in thought, then widened. “No. You are not going to overpower me and force me off as a hostage.”

  “Don’t worry about your reputation,” she said sweetly.

  “It’s about making it believable.” He raised his hands to defend against her glare. “You’re a damn good pirate—I can’t believe I’m saying this!—but you’re not an escape artist, and you’re not stronger than I am. Especially if you’re in restraints, and there’s no way a prisoner would be otherwise.”

  She sighed. “It was a lovely thought. Do you have a better idea?”

  They both considered their options. Then a grin spread across Jayce’s face.

  “Why don’t you steal the ship?”

  Chapter Six

  Shayalin would have once said she’d never abandon her ship, and her instincts still skittered against the notion. She had to keep herself from clutching convulsively at the controls, letting her hands drift over them one last time in farewell. There were more important things now. The precious compass would be stowed aboard the Swallow, which Jayce would fly over to the barricade ship. The Adannaya would be left to drift crewless.

  Jayce stood behind her in respectful silence.

  She turned to him. “Before we do this…”

  He looked at her questioningly.

  Shayalin didn’t know how to go about this. She leaned in and kissed him, but he was too surprised to respond properly. She couldn’t let things end there, not when there was a chance she might never emerge from the barricade ship’s brig. Taking hold of his wrist, she gently pulled him down the hall to her cabin.

  “Shayalin,” he said, his voice rough. Suddenly terrified he would tell her no, she turned and placed her fingertips on his lips, quieting him. He didn’t say anything more, but he watched her intently.

  Shayalin undressed, not looking at him but hearing the change in his breathing. It encouraged her. Her hands moved languorously along her own body as she pulled off her clothing.

  After she dropped the last article on the floor she stretched out on the bed. She was cold, naked. Goosebumps spread across her skin and her nipples hardened from the chill. He still stood by the doorway, and she propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. “Jayce?”

  He crossed the room like a sleepwalker, slow but unerring. “I’ve dreamed this before,” he murmured.

  “And did you let my dream-self freeze to death?”

  His hand drifted down to alight just beneath one of her breasts. He traced its curve with a gossamer touch that nonetheless left her skin tingling. Then his fingers made their way to her erect nipple, dancing about it in circles that in her sensitive state made her gasp.

  “You’re so much more beautiful than I remembered,” he said thickly.

  And he had a memory of her as a teenager. She was glad the comparison was favorable, but she didn’t want this hazy Jayce who seemed trapped in the dream he described, his movements slow and his eyes lost. She wanted him here and now.

  “Hey,” Shayalin said, “I’m here. I’m here,” and she curled upward and caught his face in her hands, drew it down toward her and kissed him hard, raking her teeth over his lower lip.

  He made a guttural noise and suddenly she was flat on her back again, his mouth devouring hers and his hands hot against both her breasts. The heat and weight of him loosed a torrent of need inside her and she tore at his clothes, trying to touch as much of his skin as she could. She was greedy for him after ten years’ drought, demanding all of him when he might have drawn back to a more moderate pace.

  When he pushed into her, it was with a single slick glide that brought them to a complete joining.

  He buried his face in her hair. “God, I’ve missed you, Shay.”

  She had missed him too—not just inside her, but just there with her, a solid presence she had always counted on. Could have always counted on, if not for a terrible mistake. How had she survived without him for ten years? “Don’t stop moving,” she pleaded, her hips rising and falling to keep to that instinctual rhythm. He felt right for her in ways she hadn’t been able to describe to her past lovers. This was the boy who had known exactly what to say to dare her into childhood pranks; this was the youth who had first woken her body into heated awareness; and this was the man who still knew her better than anyone, who remembered the old paths along her skin that aroused her and who could read her so well that he knew which new techniques would please her now. It was familiar and exciting all at on
ce. It was Jayce.

  The thought spurred her to roll them over and she rose above him, increasing the tempo of her movements. He curled his fingers over her hips and slammed her down over him. Her thoughts scattered and there was only Jayce under her, inside her, again and again…

  She surrendered to the growing heat, letting it overwhelm her over that sharp, exquisite edge. Time shuddered to a halt. Then sensation flooded her in waves.

  “Ah, Shay—” He reached up to caress her face. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze, and he groaned and arched upward for a long moment. She watched him unwind, his muscles loose and his smile easy.

  She moved off of him and set one foot on the floor, ready to rise from the bed.

  “Hey.” He caught her wrist. “You don’t have to bolt right afterward.”

  If she didn’t, she almost said, she would want to stay there forever, and this was supposed to be just a quick, one-time release. She lay down beside him without saying it, stiffly, but he tucked her against him and she found herself relaxing into their old pose, her head on his shoulder, one leg thrown over one of his. She didn’t have to look at his face this way.

  “Shay, talk to me.”

  She searched for words that were safe but those were precisely what he didn’t want to hear. She took a deep breath, still gazing at the far wall. The wall. She could handle talking to the wall. “Finding out that my father was a pirate was a shock.”

  That hadn’t been what she had planned to say, but Jayce didn’t seem discomfited by her choice of subject. “You adjusted pretty well,” he observed. “After all, you became one.”

  “Where else could I go? Not back to Centuris.”

  He shook his head in reluctant agreement, no doubt envisioning the scene with her mother. “No, of course not.”

  “And I couldn’t tell you, not after I’d said all that about my father when we were kids.”

  Jayce sighed. “So you left me without a word of explanation.”

  “You had your dream,” she said, but the words rang hollow even to her ears.

  “And you couldn’t bear it, could you? That I’d gotten it and you hadn’t.” He wasn’t gloating or angry. He sounded anguished.