“But I built that too.” I nodded at the device. “Six months of stolen parts. Every 'maintenance' shift, I'd pocket one component.”
His fingers traced the device's edge. Long fingers. Elegant. I remembered them on my skin and forced myself to focus.
“What does it do?” His voice was lower. Closer. His breath stirred my hair.
I pulled up the technical specifications, turned the data pad so he could see. Our shoulders touched. “Creates a feedback loop in Qeth's degraded algorithms. When activated with admin access?—”
“Which I can provide.” His hand covered mine on the data pad. Not holding. Just... there.
“—it'll broadcast everything.” I didn't move my hand. Couldn't. “Every crime, every murder, every credit. All hidden in the system's memory.”
I pulled up the timeline file, had to lean across him to reach the second data pad. His scent—ozone from a ship's corridor and something spicy that was uniquely his—made my head swim. “But the real advantage is this.”
The timeline filled the screen. Five years of observations. I traced the pattern with my finger, hyperfocused on the data instead of how his chest pressed against my shoulder. “Qeth takes Nexian neural enhancers at the start of each of the four shifts.”
“Never varies?” His thumb moved against my hand. Tiny motion. Probably unconscious.
“Never.” I highlighted sections, glad for something to do. “Hours one and two after each dose, he's sharp. Dangerous.”
He leaned closer to see the screen. His chin nearly touched my shoulder. “Hours three and four?”
“Declining. You can see it in his eyes.” I scrolled to video footage, tried not to think about his breath on my neck. “But hours five and six? He's gone. Paranoid. Arguing with people who aren't there.”
“The window just before the first shift… that’s when Qeth takes a dose.” His voice rumbled through where our bodies touched.
“His most vulnerable moment.” I pulled away, needed distance, moved to the wall where I'd hidden handwritten notes.Started pulling them down, arranging them on the bed. “Five years of patterns. Seventeen routes through service tunnels.”
He followed, picked up one of the maps. Our fingers tangled as we both reached for the same page. I jerked back. He didn't.
“Every blind spot.” I grabbed another map, focused on laying them out in order. The bed wasn't big enough. We kept bumping hands, arms, hips. “The twelve-minute gap during the final shift on Level 19.”
“You've been planning your own heist.” He was standing too close. I could feel the heat of him down my entire left side.
“I've been planning survival.” I gathered the maps, needed something to do with my hands that wasn't touching him. “But I couldn't crack the vault alone.”
I moved to put the maps back, had to squeeze past him. For a moment we were chest to chest. His hands came up to my waist to steady me. Or to keep me there.
“But with my algorithms—” His thumbs pressed against my hip bones through the thin fabric.
“We can hijack them.” I should have pulled away. Didn't. “Turn his stolen system against him.”
We stood frozen, pressed together in the narrow space between bed and wall. His pupils were dilated. The green traceries on his neck stood out against his skin.
“Vonni would have liked you,” I said suddenly, needing to break whatever was building. I stepped back, and his hands fell away. The loss of his touch left a cold space. He turned then, moving to the desk to give me room, and started reassembling the device with steady hands. “She had a thing for dangerous men with complicated plans.”
“What would she say now?”
“That I should take the chance.” I touched my neck, the spot where bruises would be if he'd bitten me two nights ago.He tracked the movement. “That dying while trying beats living while dead inside.”
“She was right.” He finished with the device, held it out to me.
I crossed to take it. “Unlike with Vonni, I'm not sacrificing everything for just a chance.”
“No.” He caught my wrist as I took the device. Not hard. Just... holding. “We do this smart, or we don't do it.”
His thumb found my pulse. It was racing. He had to feel it.
“Day Ten.” His other hand came up, fingers barely grazing my jaw. “The window before the first shift.”
