Even in the faint glow of the emergency lighting, he saw her birthmark thumping wildly at the base of her throat and her gloved hands trembling. It reminded him of the way she’d whimpered and clawed at her harness a few minutes ago. Despite her dodgy behavior, a thread of compassion tugged at Doran’s heart. He’d felt a similar panic in the outpost, where she could have left him but chose not to.
“Fine. We’ll talk later,” he said. “What are we doing?”
She thumbed toward the stairs leading to the bridge. “Listening to hear what’s going on.”
“Why?” he asked. “Just go talk to the captain. I’d say ten thousand fuel chips entitles you to a status update.”
“Not yet,” she said. “Not until I know it’s—”
A clattering of boots interrupted her, at least two pairs heading quickly down the stairs in their direction. Doran stepped into the main corridor to intercept the crew. Lara grabbed at his sleeve, but he shook her off. If she wanted answers, they wouldn’t find them by lurking in the shadows.
“Hello?” he called.
The footsteps halted for a moment, and then the two young ship hands stepped into view. Doran couldn’t remember their names, but the girl yelled like it was her job, and the boy had an oily smile that he used on everyone except the girl. The pair seemed to enjoy spitting curses at each other, and yet they stood so closely in the passageway that their shoulders touched.
Doran couldn’t quite figure them out.
They blinked at him as if they’d forgotten there were passengers on board. Then the boy flashed that annoying sideways grin and said, “Sorry for the bumpy ride. Everything’s fine now.” His stomach rumbled, and he pressed a hand over it while making an apologetic face. “The galley’s a mess. I’m afraid we’ll all have to hold out till breakfast. We’re docked here until morning, so you should go ahead and turn in.”
“Where’s here?” Lara asked from her hiding spot around the corner.
The blond girl must’ve smelled Lara’s fear because she retracted her fangs. “An old lunar colony,” she said sweetly. “It’s abandoned. We come here sometimes when we need a quiet place to…uh…”
“Sleep,” finished the boy. “Captain’s worn-out, and the autopilot’s on the blink.”
Lara glanced up and down the hall. “Did anyone follow us?”
Blond dreadlocks bounced as the pair shook their heads, and based on the question, Doran wondered if Lara was worried about privateers. He couldn’t really blame her. Organized crime flourished in space, where Enforcers were spread too thin to prevent it. But most convicts were motivated by profit, and like all businessmen, they ran a cost-benefit analysis before attacking a vessel.
“A ship this small won’t catch a pirate’s eye,” Doran told her. “Not enough cargo in the hold. The ship-jackers won’t want it, either. Flying this heap to the nearest salvager would cost more in fuel than it’s worth.” He threw a glance at the ship hands. “No offense.”
The girl shrugged. “He’s right. We’re safe here. So try to get some rest.”
Lara agreed, but as soon as they returned to their room, she pointed at the door and told Doran, “Bolt that. I don’t know why the captain docked here, but there’s nothing wrong with the autopilot.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know,” she told him. “Trust me.”
Trust her? That was almost funny—almost. He slid the bolt into place, then leaned back against the door and folded both arms across his chest. “Speaking of blind faith, where’s our contract?”
“Around here somewhere,” she said, unfastening her braids. “I’ll look tomorrow.”
“I don’t think you’ll find it.” He studied her reaction by the dim glow of the exit light mounted above the door. Her face betrayed nothing, but she couldn’t hide the sudden stillness in her chest. “Because there’s no contract, is there?”
“I wish there wasn’t. More than you know.”
“I remembered something earlier,” he said, tapping an index finger against his head. “I have money. Tons of it.”
“Congratulations.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”
“So why would I indenture myself to you, or anyone else?”
With her back turned, she loosened each plait until her hair hung in waves that curled around her waist. Then she spun to face him and puffed a sigh. “Fine. You caught me. I guess there’s no use pretending anymore.”
Doran settled in and waited for the punch line.
“I lured you onto this ship,” she said, “because I couldn’t get enough of your scintillating personality.”
There it was.
“Kiss me, Doran,” she cried, flopping onto the mattress with one arm slung over her eyes and the other clutched to her breast. “I burn for you, hotter than a thousand hells.”
He cocked his head to the side. “I think there’s an ointment for that.”
“Desire like this can’t be tamed by medicine.”
“I’m glad you think this is funny.”