“You did. Kreeg backed off because he knows you'll kill him if he pushes too far.” I turned my arm to show him the full extent, five distinct finger marks already purple-black against my skin.“These are nothing compared to what Qeth will do if he gets me as his personal probability calculator.”
The growl returned, vibrating through his chest into my palms. “That's not happening.”
“No. It's not.”
The air between us crackled. We stood there, my hands on his bare chest, his hands cradling my face, both of us breathing too hard. The mission, the danger, the trap, all of it faded against the tension building between us.
“I should check those bruises,” he said, voice rough. “I have medical supplies.”
“Always taking care of me,” I breathed, and watched his pupils dilate.
He led me to the bedroom, retrieving a medical kit from the nightstand. He sat on the bed's edge, pulling me to stand between his spread knees. This position put us at eye level, his face inches from mine.
“This might sting,” he warned, opening the container.
“I can handle it.”
His fingers were impossibly gentle as he applied the salve, but I barely felt the medicine. All I could focus on was his concentration, the way his breathing changed when I swayed closer. His proximity was a physical weight. My hands found his shoulders for balance, and I felt him tense.
“Tell me about the override codes,” he said, clearly trying to focus on planning.
So I did, but my voice kept catching as his hands worked up and down my arm. By the time I finished explaining the seventeen routes, we were both breathing unsteadily.
“You've been planning your own escape this entire time.”
“For five years, I'd been observing. For the last two, I'd been actively planning. But the price was always too high. Too much risk for just a chance.” I touched his face, tracing a green linealong his jaw. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “This is different. This is calculated. We know their plan, we have the advantage.”
“And after?”
“After, we disappear. You get your Regalia for your crew. I get my freedom.” My thumb traced his lower lip, felt his fang press against it. “We both get out alive.”
He said it as a vow. “We get out together.”
I leaned into his touch. “Yes. We do.”
He pulled me down for a kiss that started soft but quickly turned desperate. His hands tangled in my hair while mine mapped the planes of his chest, both of us trying to memorize the other. When we finally broke apart, we were both shaking.
“Stay,” he said roughly. “Just for tonight. Tomorrow everything changes.”
I should go. Empty quarters were suspicious. But the way he looked at me destroyed my resolve.
“One hour,” I lied, already knowing I'd stay until the last possible moment.
He pulled me onto the bed, arranging us so I lay against his chest, my bruised arm carefully positioned. His hearts beat strong and steady under my ear while his fingers combed through my hair.
“Tomorrow night, we spring their trap,” I said into the darkness.
“And it catches them instead,” he finished.
We lay there in the dark, neither of us sleeping, both of us pretending tomorrow night wouldn't change everything. His body burned hot against mine, and I memorized the feeling. The safety. The want that never quite went away, just simmered between us.
Tomorrow night, we'd spring their trap. But tonight, in his bed, in his arms, I was already free.
VARRICK
Sabine met me outside her quarters an hour before the first shift. The station’s corridors were empty, swallowed by the quiet that preceded the dawn rush. She was dressed in maintenance coveralls that did nothing to hide the way her body moved. She'd pulled her hair back tight, exposing the curve of her neck where I'd pressed my fangs last night without breaking skin. The memory of her taste flooded my mouth.
“Ready?” Her voice was steady, but I caught the slight tremor in her hands as she checked her tool belt.
