“It was the Black Widow that decided. After you chased me into ablack hole,” I added.
“I tried to keep you out of it,” Bridgebane grated.
“Yes, by ‘disabling me,’” I said with sarcastic air quotes. “The patched-up hull of my unarmed cargo cruiser thanks you for that.”
“The Black Widow decided…” Shade echoed thoughtfully.
I’d just added light-years of fuel to the engine for him believing in a higher power, hadn’t I?
“And you chose Quintessa over the two million units?” Bridgebane asked. “Over the huge bonus you could have had?”
As usual, my full name was a jolt to the system. It burned through me like a meteor shower, leaving craters all over the place.
“Yeah.” Shade cocked his head. “I guess I made a better choice than you did.”
The curiosity flickering in Bridgebane’s expression died, and his face shut down again like an android in need of a recharge. “You used to be effective, Ganavan. For Quintessa’s sake, let’s hope you still are. And here—” He pulled a small packet from his pocket and tossed it at Shade, who caught it. “That’s a new med wipe about to go public. It reduces swelling and heals cuts and contusions. You’re drawing attention to my niece. Try not to get trounced next time.”
Shade huffed quietly under his breath, turning the package over in his hand. “Thanks?”
My brows slashed down. “Can you evernotbe a jerk for one second?” I asked my uncle.
Bridgebane met my fuming gaze head-on, his face still washed of expression. “No. I lost that ability when that heartless despot murdered Caitrin, and I was forced to desert you for your own safety.”
I stared in shock. I’d never heard him denigrate the Overseer out loud before. And forced? Had he truly wanted to keep me?
My chest clenched so hard it mashed my heart to pieces.
“Yes, I made a choice.” Bridgebane spread his hands between us, palms up, and it was the first time I’d ever seen him look even remotely helpless. “You—or everything.”
He didn’t mean his power or position; I knew that instinctively. He’d retained those, but I thought I finally understoodwhybetter. That dead look in his eyes wasn’t from lack of feeling. It was his default mode now, the countenance of a man used to giving orders and weighing horrible choices against one another, even when innocent lives, his only family, or his own future hung in the balance.
Had it changed him? Yes. Was he happy? No. Did he deserve my sympathy? My understanding? My forgiveness?
My eyes stung, and I bit my lip. Maybe.
Uncle Nate turned and left me—again—stepping onto the fast-moving walkway and leaving his lieutenant and possibly the only person he trusted behind him. With me. Through vision that burned and blurred, I watched him zoom toward the base of the docking tower. He didn’t look back at me. But then again, he never had, had he?
I clamped my mouth flat against a tremble that built like an earthquake. Shade gripped my hand, and I held on to him. One last flash of dark hair and broad shoulders was all I got before my uncle disappeared, swallowed by the shadowed entrance of the hive-like building.
A terrible pressure ground down on me. Maybe I wanted that hug after all, now that it was too late, and I might not get another chance.
Chapter 8
SHADE
Our second night in the bungalow wasn’t exactly the evening I’d hoped for. It was anything but, with Lieutenant Mwende tracking us with her dark eyes and pitiless stare while she sharpened her knives on the patio. There wasn’t a door to close in the whole damn place except for the bathroom. Our privacy had been annihilated, and if I’d known we were going to pick up an unexpected and pissed-off guest, I’d have requested a place with a different layout.
At least the blood exchange with Bridgebane had gone well. That didn’t seem like the right word for it, although it could definitely have goneworse. The Overseer would get enhancers out of the deal, but maybe he wouldn’t be so determined to go after Tess herself or to launch a galaxy-wide hunt for anyone carrying A1 blood. It felt like a stalling tactic on Bridgebane’s part, and the whole thing left Tess in a funk I couldn’t shake her out of. She just kept saying, “Mareeka and Surral are safe now. Starway 8’s fine. We’re fine. He didn’t do anything.”
Right. Nothing but fuck with Tess’s head and saddle us with an unwanted and spitting-mad bodyguard.
Sanaa Mwende made everything uncomfortable, mainly because she didn’t want to be stuck with us any more than we wanted to be stuck with her. Tension ran high, but not because we feared betrayal. That didn’t seem to be on Bridgebane’s shady agenda, and Mwende was an extension of Tess’s uncle. We spent the rest of the day in our separate corners, watchful and wary like independent pets abruptly introduced into the same household. I’d seen it with cats. Inevitably, they learned to live together, often becoming friendly.
Somehow, that thought made this new situation feel like it had the potential to last a lot longer than the five days we already knew we were in for.
We ate dinner, listened to the chorus of insects without adding anything to their chirping, and went to bed, Tess and me tamely on one side of the bungalow and the lieutenant on the couch under the netting. Our paradise felt a lot like hell all of a sudden. I barely slept, and when I did, it was with one eye open in case my instincts were wrong about Bridgebane and Mwende.
Things were no different in the morning except that Tess barreled into efficient mode instead of staring off into space anymore. It was time to meet up with the crew again. Tess showered, packed up what little she had, and emptied the complimentary contents of the refrigerator into my cruiser’s built-in cooler like she had two jet engines strapped to her back. She was ready to go just after sunrise, and she didn’t even like getting up early.
