Coldbloods (Hotbloods #2)

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said, though I didn’t know if he was talking to me or Kalvin.

“We were just having a friendly chat,” Kalvin replied, his tone returning to the taunting lilt I’d heard a few nights ago. “Getting to know one another, before the big day.”

A low sound growled from the back of Navan’s throat, but I was standing between the two coldbloods, preventing Navan from lunging forward. There would be no more fighting while I was around to stop it.

“We really were just talking, Navan,” I said softly, and placed a hand on his arm. “Come on, why don’t we go and find something to eat?”

“Fine,” he muttered, his eyes still on Kalvin. I led him down the narrow hallway and out into the main space of the Asterope.

There were several boxes of supplies stacked up in the far corner, and I made a beeline for them. Inside, there were several containers filled with metallic vials, and a few plastic boxes filled with what I’d discovered over the past few days was astronaut food. I picked up a pouch, then gestured to Navan for him to pick up some vials.

“You can’t trust any other coldbloods, Riley,” he said as he bent down to the boxes, clearly still preoccupied with Kalvin. “I thought you knew that.”

I shrugged. “He wanted to apologize for the things he said the other night, so I was letting him. We’re in this together, after all—we may as well be a team,” I said, echoing Kalvin’s earlier words.

Navan turned and widened his eyes at me. “It’s all a game to them, Riley!”

Before I could reply, a loud siren tore through the ship.

Immediately, the Asterope’s interior lighting dimmed down to a low, flashing red. Lazar came running out into the corridor, sprinting so fast he was almost a blur. He barreled through the main room, heading for the door at the far end which slid open, and he disappeared inside.

I looked at Navan, bewildered. “What is—?”

I didn’t get a chance to complete my question as a screen embedded into the ship’s wall flickered to life. After a few moments of white noise and crackling, an image appeared. Staring through the display was a woman with gleaming copper hair, shot through with bolts of brightest white. Her sharp, almost silver eyes pierced through to where I was standing, though I was pretty certain she couldn’t see me. She was beautiful—astonishingly so—with cut cheekbones, dark red lips, and effortlessly arched eyebrows that seemed perpetually scornful.

“This is Queen Gianne of the planet Vysanthe. You have entered the airspace of my queendom, without my permission. Your ship is not one my system recognizes as due for arrival.” Her silky voice boomed through the speakers. “I demand to know who you are, what you want, and why I shouldn’t blow you up right here and now. I have ammunition aimed at your ship as we speak, so do not try anything foolish.”

Blood pounded in my ears, and my gut clenched. We had reached Vysanthe.

I had known we would face Queen Gianne eventually, but I hadn’t imagined what she might look like—or how poorly our arrival might be received. On screen, her expression remained fierce and unforgiving. I glanced at Navan, who looked just as shocked to see her as I did, his jaw clenched.

He strode toward the cockpit, and I followed, careful to keep to the shadowed sides of the room as I entered. It was even tinier than the ship’s main space. A command module lay up ahead, where Lazar was frantically toying with various buttons and levers. Beyond that, Queen Gianne’s face loomed, stretched across the ship’s front.

“Let me,” Navan insisted, and his uncle stepped to one side. With the press of a button, a smaller screen appeared beside the first, showing Navan’s face. “I am Navan Idrax of the Explorer’s Guild, son of Jareth Idrax. I come bearing news for you, Your Highness.”

I watched his face on the monitor, impressed by his calm demeanor. Queen Gianne studied him for a moment before speaking again. “Navan Idrax?” she asked, her tone suspicious. “The last I heard of Navan Idrax, he had gone to the far reaches of the universe. Why would you be here now?”

“I returned as quickly as I could, Your Highness,” he said. “You see, early on in my exploration, I was betrayed. I had Jethro and Ianthan Plexus aboard my ship, but they sought to turn against you, Your Highness—they wanted to feed information to your enemies, the rebel forces. They changed the coordinates of my ship while I was sleeping, and took us to a rebel outpost. I realized in time to stop them from speaking with the rebels, but not before we had landed.” He spoke quickly, and I could see Queen Gianne’s face contorting with each word.

“Jethro and Ianthan Plexus?” she remarked icily.

Navan nodded. “I was forced to carry out their execution for treason. They wanted to smuggle rebels back, to create a weak point in your queendom, Your Highness.”

“At a rebel outpost, you say?”

“It was only a small one, on a forgotten planet a few days’ travel from here, Your Highness,” Navan replied smoothly, his voice never faltering. Even I would have believed him. “There were a handful of rebels there, but they seemed disenchanted with the whole rebellion idea. I think the real rebel base had forgotten them, too. After seeing the execution of Jethro and Ianthan, they begged me to bring them back to Vysanthe, where they might offer you information on the true rebel base, in exchange for immunity... They know their true leader is you, Queen Gianne, and they would seek to be your citizens once more.”

“This rebel base, is it close?” Queen Gianne asked, her eyebrow raised.

“The outpost is a bit under a week away, though the rest of the rebels scattered. Those I brought with me hold the information you seek.”

“How many of you are there?” she demanded, peering closer into the screen, as though she could pick every crew member out.

“Eight, Your Highness,” Navan answered swiftly. “Myself, four other coldbloods—including my uncle Lazar, who helped me out of a spot of trouble I had with my own ship—two creatures called Carokians, and my personal slave, of an unknown race.”

I wondered if Carokians were a real thing. If they weren’t, would the shifters just make something up? Time would tell.

For a few minutes that seemed to stretch on forever, Queen Gianne said nothing. Instead, she simply looked through the screen, studying Navan’s face on the monitor. Surely, if she knew Jareth Idrax, she knew his son, too? From what I’d gathered, Navan was supposed to be close to the queen. Though, by the looks of it, she wasn’t convinced of his loyalty.

“Perhaps your story is true,” she sighed, breaking the tension with her crisp voice. “In these times, I cannot take any unnecessary risks. Stay precisely where you are while my border force comes and investigates your ship. If you move an inch, I shall shoot you from the sky—is that understood?”

Navan nodded curtly, and I could see him letting out a slight breath. “Understood, Your Highness. We’ll await them.”