Big Daddy was a steampunk lover’s fantasy, but she guessed a billionaire could get any customized appearance he wanted—even for a research vessel for a company no one had ever heard of.
Her gaze drifted up to what she’d glimpsed. More luscious gold, only this gold created letters.
MAELSTROM INC.
The words were scribedabove what seemed to be the outline of a wide door.
Slam dunk. “We have lift off—a door.”
“That?” Rutger grunted. “There are steps.”
“Oh.” She looked down. “I did only just wake up.”
Vincent could fit through that, if it opened. The entire Big Daddy was the length of a few train carriages. Judging by the legs, it might go places no car could ever go.
“Pretty.” Wriggling free of Rutger, she placed her palms on the skin. It was frigid. “Wake up,” she whispered, and a shudder ran beneath her fingers and palms. “I’m Cyn and I need you to wake up.”
“Excuse me, Miss Cyn, the correct request is to: initiate power-up and run system checks.”
She eyed the agitated Mo. “Close enough. Fucking open you big-assed lump of inert crap. There.”
Mo’s lights bounced across and back furiously.
“Well, you seem to have annoyed your critter even.” Vargr smacked her ass.
“I have talents.” She turned and put her hand to his chest while poking out her tongue, then she thought better of it. This massive hot, sexy beaster right in front of her demanded more. Slowly, she slid her hand lower until it was cupped over his hardening cock. “Wow.” Her grin spread.
“You need something?” His eyes turned hard, a look she’d grown to love.
“I’d help you spank her, but she’s not well enough, unfortunately…” At her pout Rutger continued with a more scolding tone, “This is premature, plus… there are others coming.”
Dang. She removed her hand.
“You, two,” Vincent had arrived, and behind him were Maura, Locke, and Willow. “Get a room.”
At a new quiver in her left leg, she leaned on Big Daddy, and the vehicle made akerplunk-chunknoise. The door slid open at her back. Vargr caught her just in time to prevent her falling backward.
“Later,” he murmured. “Promise. Let’s explore.”
A rugged male voice poured from some internal speaker. “Power-up successful. Cyn, you are identified by voice and faceprint. Initiating system checks. I’ll be absent for a while, folks, as I haven’t done a power-up for over two years. Make yourselves at home.”
“Wait. Did that sound like Hemsworth or am I dreaming?” someone said—Maura probably.
She wasn’t sure who had said it, since her head had thumped with pain.
She had her right foot on the last rung of the three metal steps below the door into Big Daddy when her eyes chose to do a shut-down.
“Fuck. Not again.” Her knee hit the floor, though someone grabbed her arm to stop her doing a face-first plant. Carpet below. Red carpet, her failing eyes informed her. “Shit. I hate this.”
“Get her up. We need to move fast. These episodes are coming more and more often.”
Sound faded out, faded in.
The night swallowed her, only spitting her out now and then.
“As long as she keeps breathing.”
“Yes.”
