“Would you have left them?”
“Be thankful he hasn’t touched you again.”
His words made her stiffen. “How could he? You keep him busy. He can’t do anything more than work and sleep.”
Hysterian cocked his head, twinkles of teal sparked like tiny stars in his irises. His hands reached out and grabbed the back of the chair besides hers. She pulled her hands away before his gloved fingers touched her.
“Then…I’ve successfully saved his life.”
A laugh tore from her throat. “So you are a murderer.”
Hysterian’s eyes flashed, and he dropped his hands from the chair. “I never said I wasn’t.”
Somehow hearing him say it, hearing him confess, righted her head. She knew he was—she’d lived with his evilness—and now, she no longer had to doubt it.
Because she had. In the past month, she had begun to doubt it a lot.
“Join me,” he stated, turning around and walking out of the menagerie.
She watched him go, twitching to deny him, but her curiosity won out. He was still her captain, after all. And she was intrigued.
She also just accused him of murder, and he hadn’t denied it...
He was standing in the armory across the passageway from the lab, his back to her as he stared at a metal case along the back wall. She stepped to the threshold and glanced around. She’d only glimpsed the inside of this room several times during requisitions but had never been inside it. The room was much bigger than she expected with rows upon rows of locked metal and glass cases and drawers. TheQuestor’sweapons stash had more space than all the crew combined.
Excitement filled her.
There had to be something in here that could help her. Alexa walked up to a random case.
It was locked by body scan technology and fingerprint analysis. She heard Hysterian approach from behind her—his abrupt heat clouded her mind. The case scanned him and the drawer opened for her.
Inside were more scanners, not guns.
Hysterian lifted one and tested it in his grip. “This is a Glamour. It distorts your appearance for a short time if you’re wearing the corresponding suit. And this”—he picked up another, putting the first back down—“is a Stopper. It surrounds the user in a shell that blocks out external electromagnetic interference. A must-have for any Cyborg dealing with the underground.”
“Underground?”
“The world that lies under the one we live in. Ruled by traffickers, mob bosses, and the like. They fight differently. They’re better at it.”
He handed it to her and she turned the Stopper in her palm. It wouldn’t help her.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No reason. And this,” Hysterian said, keeping her attention moving, “is for you.”
He took back the Stopper and handed her a gun.
Alexa stared at the firearm before taking it. “For me?”
“I don’t want you leaving the ship without protection, and I will be too busy to do that myself.”
Another absurd giggle escaped. “Are you sure it’s not to protect me from you?” She turned the gun in her hand, liking the weight and feel of it.
“This,Dear, wouldn’t be able to dent in my frame, but it will stop anyone else in their path.”
“So what could make a dent in your frame?” she asked, meeting his gaze.
Mischief reached his eyes, and she knew he was smirking under his suit.
