Born of Ice

“What did you say?” he asked her.

An intriguing blush spread across her cheeks while she kept her head down as if looking at his feet. She pointed to the rear of his ship. “Your back stabilizer is down. I think that might be what you’re looking for.”

Devyn was grateful someone knew what was wrong with the damned thing. He moved to check on it.

“Are you Captain Kell?” She followed a step behind him while the rest of his crew exchanged wide-eyed stares.

Worthless bastards . . .

Devyn slammed the stabilizer plate back into its original position and locked it down. Suspicious, he turned to face her. He’d learned a long time ago to be extremely cautious of people who came looking for him, no matter how harmless they might first appear.

Especially someone who looked like Clotilde.

“And you are?”

She extended a small hand out to him, her features stern and determined. “Alix Gerran. I heard you were looking for a new engineer, and I’d like to apply for the job.”

He took her hand and noted the calluses there as he shook it. She might not appear much older than an adolescent, but her hands told him she was used to hard work.

Normally, he wouldn’t consider someone so young for a member of his crew, but right now he’d take on the devil himself so long as he could operate the flight checks and get the Talia back into space. “You got any experience?”

“Well, I was born on a freighter and worked on one since I was old enough to hold a wrench.” She shifted the backpack on her shoulder and lifted her head with an arrogance he found admirable for her age. “I know how to run preliminary flight checks, keep logs, and I can fix any engine malfunction with a piece of string and a drop of sealant.”

Devyn arched a brow. For some reason, he didn’t doubt that last boast in the least.

He leaned against his ship with one hand and narrowed his eyes on her. “My last engineer was killed in battle. I don’t run from fights with anyone. Ever. You sign on with me, you have to share that one basic conviction. You got a problem with that?”

She met his gaze unflinchingly, and he noticed the strange dark blue shade of her eyes—very different from the hazel green pair that haunted his nightmares. The fire inside that intrepid gaze said she was a scrapper, too, and wouldn’t be scared to face whatever hell was thrown at them.

That was something he could respect.

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

Devyn pushed himself away from his ship, pulled a cloth out of his back pocket, and wiped the grease from his hands. “How old are you, anyway?” He didn’t want to assist a young runaway.

“Twenty-seven,” she answered without hesitation.

He raked her slim frame with a scowl. He wouldn’t have placed her at any more than sixteen. “You got any ID?”

She reached into her back pocket, pulled out a small wallet, and handed it to him.

Devyn studied the picture and the birth date. He had a good eye for forgeries, and this ID was either the best he’d ever seen or authentic. Deciding on the latter, he handed it back to her. “You’re a long way from Praenomia.”

She shrugged her thin shoulders. “My birth was registered there, but I’ve never spent more than a few days on a planet in my life.”

“Then you’re used to recycled water and air.”

“And bad food, boredom, and stuffy noses,” she added with a wistful sigh.

“Then why do you want to sign back on to a ship?”

She put her hands in her pockets and looked up at him with probing eyes that struck a long-forgotten chord inside him, a chord he’d hoped was forever severed.

She’s not Clotilde . . .

Still, that part of him that hated the bitch wanted to lash out at the woman in front of him. Luckily for her, he had enough control to stop it.

“It’s home to me, and I have to make a living. I don’t know how to do anything else.”

That was one reason Devyn understood. Something about the dark tranquility of space seemed to comfort even the most troubled of souls.

Even his own.

He scanned her competent stance. She seemed honest and capable enough. At worst, she had to be better at maintenance than his current crew of incompetents.

Speaking of, he looked at them to see what they thought of her.

Vik gave him an agitated stare. “I would voice an opinion, but since you never care what I think, I won’t waste the energy.”

He looked at Sway, who shrugged. “Nera’s only four days away. We can give her a try, and if she’s not as good as she claims, dump her ass off there. If she annoys us before we get there, we can always toss her out an airlock.”

Devyn looked back at her to see her horrified gape. “The job’s yours if you want it.”

But at this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if she told him where to stuff it.