Starfall (Starflight #2)

Cassia shifted left, peering around her chair leg, and spotted a familiar pair of boots striding into view. Then a pair of shrewd gray eyes peered down at her from above a twice-broken nose.

“Jordan,” she breathed. “How did you find me?” She jerked her gaze toward the hallway. “Make sure you secure the building. Marius is trying to mobilize all the soldiers who weren’t in the barracks.”

“He was trying,” Jordan corrected with a nod at the dead body. “Most of his men have already surrendered.” He frowned and studied her laser wound. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, she repeated, “How did you find me?”

He lifted her chair upright and began unfastening her wrists. “By finding Marius. I had my men slip a tracking chip under his skin when he was imprisoned.”

“He didn’t know?”

“He had no idea.” Jordan seemed to notice her electrodes for the first time. He frowned and peeled one free from her temple. “He hooked you up to the truth extractor. I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither. I hated it.”

Jordan gave a dry laugh. “Well, at least you didn’t profess your undying love to the person who locked you up. There’s no living that down.”

The mere thought of Jordan’s feelings forced her to blurt, “I didn’t love you back, but I was attracted to you.” Her face flamed. She couldn’t stop herself from pointing at his lower abdomen. “You have these amazing V-shaped muscles at the base of your hips. I used to daydream about them.”

His lips curved in a smile. “They’re all yours if you want.”

“I only want Kane,” she said, and it killed her that he might never know it. “He’s more than a friend. I love him. He spent years making sacrifices for me, and now he’s the one who needs help. I won’t turn my back on him—not for you, or this colony, or anything else.”

“I can respect that.” Jordan offered his palm. “Friends, then? And I don’t mean the enemy-of-my-enemy kind.”

As she took his hand to shake it, his words sparked an idea. “Can you ping the Banshee for me? My com-band is gone, and I have to talk to Renny.”

“Of course.”

“And since we’re friends now, I hope you’ll do me a favor.”

“Anything for my former queen.”

“What’s the fastest ship on this colony?”

He considered for a moment. “I noticed one of the Durango generals has a Hypersonic cruiser.” His eyes flashed with understanding, and he added, “Which technically belongs to you, because we haven’t filed the amendment with the Solar League yet.”

“Perfect.” She stood up slowly, favoring her shoulder. “While I look for a med-kit, I need you to bring me that ship. I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes.”





Kane awoke by layers, one slow sense at a time.

At first there was a vague awareness, the confusion of sliding out of dreams. Then came light. The brilliance pierced his closed eyelids, seeming to come from all around. No matter which way he turned his head, he couldn’t escape it. With that motion came pain. His neck burned from the inside out, and as he stirred in bed, he found his muscles stiff and slow to respond. Finally, as he came around, he heard the sounds of angry male voices, slightly muffled by distance.

“…not worth the risk,” said one man. “He’s already gone off twice.”

“That’s my fault,” argued another voice Kane recognized as his boss. “I gave him too much. He built up a resistance, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” repeated the first man. “There’s nothing stronger to give him! If he’s grown tolerant to the Gold, then we might as well—”

A closer voice said, “Hey, kid,” and Kane opened his eyes to find Cutter sitting on the edge of the bed.

Right away, he noticed they weren’t in the dorm. This bed was tall with no upper bunk, situated in a bright, white-walled room. One of Cutter’s massive arms was pinned to his chest by a sling, and two of the fingers on that same hand were paler than the rest. Judging by the scarlet line below the knuckles, it looked like they’d been reattached recently.

Because they had.

All of Kane’s memories washed over him in a rush. “You’re alive,” he croaked in a dry throat. And so am I.

“Thanks to you,” Cutter said. It sounded like an accusation.

“I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Not wanting to kill me is nothing to be sorry for.” He pointed at Kane’s throat. “By the way, you should’ve waited until the Redshirts were off the stage. Then you might’ve bled out before they treated you.”

Kane tried to touch his neck, but both of his wrists were bound by his sides. “How long’s it been?”

“A few days, maybe? I was out, too, so it’s hard to say.” Cutter glanced through the open window, barred from the outside. “They’re sending me back to the dorm today. I don’t think they’ll make me fight tonight, though.”

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