“An inner door is to provide an air lock and to hold you together in an emergency until you can get the outer door fixed. It’s not meant to take reentries and jumps on a regular basis.”
I knew that. Did he think I didn’t?
Shaking my head, I shrugged. “No choice.”
Shade lifted one hand and rubbed the back of his neck, just like Jax did when he was torn about something. “I can get you a door at half price,” he eventually said.
My heart wound up like a crazy clock in my chest. “Really? That’s amazing!” I could make that work. I hated to do it, but I could sell the precious books I had in my possession instead of giving them to the Intergalactic Library like I’d planned. If I found the right buyer for the books, and if the door was really half-price, we could be up and flying out of here in a week. And I’d still have the food for the Outer Zone colonies. When it came down to it, I’d rather keep the provisions than the books. It wasn’t even a choice.
Shade looked away from my big, fat, grateful smile as though it offended him or something. I felt it die on my lips.
A little stung but still appreciative of the generous offer on the door, I moved to the edge of our docking platform and looked out over Albion City. A sprawling latticework of tall buildings spread endlessly before me, all soaring metal, polished stone, and bright, shiny glass.
The morning sun reflected off the millions of windows, almost blinding me. I wondered about all the people behind those windows, about their daily lives. So different from mine. And probably from each other’s as well.
The Sector 2 city looked settled, maybe even like a nice place to live, if you could deal with the regular Dark Watch patrols. Then again, those were everywhere, from the mansion-lined avenues of Sector 12 to the crumbling slums of the far reaches of the galaxy. I only knew of one place where the Dark Watch couldn’t come knocking—and that was because they didn’t know it was there.
A ship could slip completely out of sight in the Fold, and if we’d had enough power left yesterday, I would have tried to find it instead of diving headfirst into the Black Widow. In retrospect, I should have gone there first and avoided the whole chase, but I’d always managed to outrun the Dark Watch before, and I’d had no idea how important the lab was, or how vigorously the military would come after it.
It didn’t help that the Fold was a bitch to find, even for those who knew how to look. I never would have known about the rebel hideaway if Jax and Fiona hadn’t trusted me with the secret first. No one found the Fold unless they were brought there. And enemies that somehow made it in on rebel ships… They didn’t come out again.
The pocket between the stars knew how to protect itself, and for some, it turned into a one-way trip. Others were born, lived, and died there, their existences revolving around a single cause. The Fold was home to them, the only safe one around, but it was just an occasional stopover for Nightchasers like us, rebels running people and supplies around the Dark.
Thinking in terms of a safe place to dock made me want to do a quick flyby of Starway 8, but unless I had something vital to contribute to the huge galactic orphanage, I would never risk drawing the military there. Kids liked to run their mouths, and that never ended well. And Mareeka was too much of a rebel at heart to ever let the children under her care get pushed around by the Overseer’s goons. Publicly, she dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s, and the Dark Watch patrols mostly left her alone.
And it was a damn good thing. If my father knew even half of what went on in that place—the chaos and joy and illicit learning of the old texts—he’d probably blow the whole orphanage up, kids and all.
Looking down from our Squirrel Tree perch, I sniffed the quickly warming air, which was already thickening with the brighter light of the climbing sun and with the droning sounds of the city waking up around us. It was going to turn into another hot day on Albion 5, but at least it didn’t smell half bad here.
I lifted both arms above my head and stretched, trying to work out the muscle kinks sleeping on my hard, thin mattress had left. When I turned back around, Shade’s eyes darted quickly away, as if he’d been watching me.
Heat stole through me. I wished I could figure him out.
Jax’s head poked out from the open doorway. “Coffee’s ready, Tess.” He scowled at me. “Pleasecome away from the edge.”
I immediately moved closer to the ship. I knew how it freaked Jax out when I spacewalked or went anywhere near someplace where there was even a remote possibility of my falling off or slipping away or simply…being lost.
“You must be the muscle Tess was talking about,” Shade said.
Jaxon turned his head. “You must be the guy with the parts.”
The Shade from yesterday would have at least smirked atthe guy with the parts. Today, all he did was hold out his hand to Jax, and the two men shook.
“Do you want to come in for some breakfast?” I asked Shade.
“No, thanks. I’m going to take stock of the damage again,” he answered. “Start making a plan.”
It should have sounded good to me that he was serious and getting straight to work. Instead, an odd feeling of disappointment seized the place that should have been for relief.
Nodding, I said, “Just call out if you change your mind.”
“I already ate,” Shade answered.
Well. That was final.
And I shouldn’t have cared. I was out of here in a week.
I reached up, and Jaxon gripped my wrists and easily lifted me back onto the ship. If Shade had needed a demonstration of Jax’s strength, he’d gotten one. Not many people could haul a nearly six-foot woman straight up.
