She sent the feeds away.
Kai was watching her. “It’s time, Cinder.”
Time to say good-bye. Time to move ahead. Time to let go of the little utopia they’d cocooned themselves in.
“I know,” she said, her voice sad and heavy. “Thorne, let’s get ready to take Kai home.”
Eleven
“Thought I might find you down here.”
Cinder peeked around the side of the podship. Kai was loitering in the doorway, hands in his pockets, dressed again in his wedding finery.
She brushed some loose strands of hair off her forehead. “Just doing some basic maintenance,” she said, disconnecting the power cell gauge from the podship and closing the hatch. “Making sure it’s ready for your big return. I figured it was enough risk letting Thorne be your pilot; the least I could do is make sure the transport is in good condition.”
“I wish you were coming with us.”
“Yeah, me too, but we can’t risk it.”
“I know. It’s just nice to have a mechanic on board. In case anything, you know … breaks.” He scratched his ear.
“Oh, that’s why you want me there. How flattering.” Cinder wrapped the cord around the gauge and returned it to a cabinet bolted to the wall.
“That, and I’m going to miss you.” His voice had gone soft, and it warmed the base of her stomach.
“With any luck, we’ll see each other again soon.”
“I know.”
Cinder peeled off her work gloves and shoved them into her back pocket. There was still a tinge of panic at the action—her brain reminding her, out of habit, that she wasn’t supposed to remove the gloves in front of anyone, especially Kai—but she ignored it. Kai didn’t blink at the unveiling of her cyborg hand, like he didn’t even notice it anymore.
She knew she was thinking about it less and less. Sometimes she was even surprised upon seeing a flash of metal in the corner of her eye when she went to pick something up. It was strange. She’d always been aware of it before, mortified that someone might see it.
“Are you scared?” she asked, pulling a wrench from her tool belt.
“Terrified,” he said, but with a nonchalance that made her feel better about her own insides being wound into tight little knots. “But I’m ready to go back. I’m sure Torin is about to have a heart attack. And…” He shrugged. “I’m a little homesick.”
“They’ll be glad to have you back.” Cinder knelt beside the ship, checking the bolts on the landing gear. She fit the wrench onto one, two, three bolts—none were loose. “Do you know what you’re going to say to Levana?”
Kai crouched beside her, elbows braced against his knees. “I’m going to tell her I’ve fallen for one of my captors and the wedding is off.”
Cinder’s arm froze.
He smirked. “At least, that’s what I wish I could tell her.”
She blew a lock of hair out of her face and finished checking the bolts, before moving to the other side of the ship to repeat the process.
“I’m going to tell her I had nothing to do with the kidnapping,” said Kai, donning what Cinder had come to think of as his emperor voice. “I’m in no way affiliated with you or the crew and I did my best to bargain for a quick release. I was a victim, held hostage, unable to escape. I’ll probably make up something about inhumane treatment.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Then I’ll beg her to marry me. Again.” His lip curled with disgust.
Cinder couldn’t blame him. The more she thought of it, the more she wanted to hijack this podship and head for Mars.
“When I see you again,” said Kai, “I’ll have clothes for everyone and new plating for Iko. If you think of anything else you need, Cress thinks she can get me an encrypted comm.” He inhaled deeply. “Whatever happens, I’m on your side.”
The sentiment both encouraged her and sent a shock of anxiety through her nerves. “I’m sorry to put you in so much danger.”
“You’re not,” he said. “She was already going to kill me.”
“You could try sounding a little more concerned when you say that.”
“What is there to be concerned about?” His eyes glinted. “You’re going to rescue me long before that happens.”
Finished with the bolts, she stood and shoved the wrench back into her belt.
“Cinder…”
She froze, disconcerted at the serious edge in his voice.
“There’s something I have to say before I go. In case—”
“Don’t. Don’t you even think this will be the last time we see each other.”
A wistful smile touched his mouth, but quickly fled again. “I want to apologize.”
“For suggesting this might be the last time we see each other? Because that is cruel, when here I am, trying to get some work done, and—”
“Cinder, listen to me.”