Chapter 40
Blair
Forrest being gone takes away some of the buffer between me and Sterling. I glance out the window at the dock, where Forrest is standing so I can see him, though he can’t see me through the tinted glass.
I turn back to Sterling. Interestingly, his mood seems to have shifted for the better with Forrest leaving. Sometimes I wonder how this many guys can get along.
I run my hand over the back of the sofa.
Alexei said this was like an RV. But it’s more like one of those mega yachts you see on TV shows with people trying to inflate their own egos.
Is this the same thing? Are they trying to impress me with what they can buy?
Reflexively, my lips twist to the side, and I catch Delmar looking at me.
“Everything okay?” He takes my hand.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Everything is great. I’m excited.” Which is true. When Marlee and I came here on the military sub, there was a finality to it all. That we’d never be able to leave because of how the Dorian keep themselves hidden away from the rest of the world. So yes, I’m beyond excited.
And the voyager is amazing. I love the big galley, and I can tell Grayson must have helped stock it because there’s some of the tea I like so much in the cupboard. And there’s a scent in the air that gives it the Veiled City version of what I imagine is a new car smell.
There’s a simple layout. The controls to pilot in the front have a door that closes them off from the lounge, and behind the lounge there’s a corridor with a bedroom, a small sitting room with a sofa .
. . okay, well, there’s nothing simple about it.
There are several bathrooms and a large closet with a machine that doesn’t look like a clothes washer but is one, Delmar assures me.
Sterling grumbles and takes a wide step around me, like I have cooties. Which has me smiling.
Delmar elbows me. “Now what are you laughing about?”
I lift my chin, pointing at the grumpy Sterling.
“Yeah, he’s a real—”
Sterling turns around and glowers at Delmar. “I’ll be in the pilot seat.”
“I thought I was going to pilot. Excuse me, Blair.” Delmar chases after Sterling. “You know, just because I’m a schoolteacher doesn’t mean I don’t know anything. My pops taught me how, and he was the best pilot in the entire military.”
I don’t hear what Sterling says, but I can guess it’s not that kind. Because Delmar half playfully smacks the back of Sterling’s arm before pulling the door shut behind them.
Which leaves Zion and I alone together. “It’s too bad about Forrest. But I get it. He has an important job.”
Zion sits on the sofa and pats the leather seat next to him. “He does.”
“All of you do.”
“True on that account, as well. But the great thing about a pod the size of ours is that there’s always someone to be with, because deadlines and obligations ebb and flow like the tide. Come sit down. If Delmar pulls us away from the dock, we might be in for a jerky ride.”
I nod and sit on the far end of the sofa before I slide in next to him and he pulls me the last few inches. I search the area where the seat meets the back cushion. “I’m looking for seat belts. You have them in the solos and omadas.”
“True, but voyagers really don’t move as fast. I’ll be your safety belt.” He loops his arms around me, and I snuggle into him.
It’s the first time since he told me about our trip that I’ve relaxed—sort of relaxed, anyway. I twist my neck and kiss his cheek. The voyager pulls forward and jerks. I slide into his side. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Always,” he says.
There’s a tightening in my stomach. It’s hard to believe that this is my life. That they want me to be with them. I want it too. But I’ve got a growing seed of I don’t deserve any of this. It’s hard to believe they want me.
I stiffen. This has to be more than convenient for me––for them. It has to be right.
They’re starting over. But I’m completely starting over. New city, new culture, new career. I can’t just jump because they say how high. Because it would be good to move out of Annabelle’s home. I did that once—I’m not doing it a second time.
“How did you know you wanted to go into business?” I ask.
Zion’s hold on me tightens, then he lets go.
“I was in the military for a long while. My parents hoped I’d become a commander, like your nephew.
It’s a great honor to have a commander in the family.
” His forehead scrunches up. Normally, he keeps his steel-blue eyes focused on me while he talks.
Currently, he’s staring over at a piece of art next to the door for the pilothouse.
I squeeze his hand because if anyone can recognize the pain of the past, it’s me.
“My uncle ran the business before me. And it was always something I thought I wanted to do.”
“Thought?”
“No, wanted. I suppose I could have stayed in the military, become a commander. Made my parents happy. But I wanted to be with my pod. And living on a sub for a year at a time . . .”
“I imagine that gets a bit old?”
“Very. But I like what I do. The products we produce are the best that can be manufactured. We make a profit and help build structures both in the Veiled City and around the world. I took the company from good to great, and I’m proud of that.”
“No regrets?”
After a pause he says, “None.”
“It’s good that you love what you do.”
There’s another shift in his face. “It’s the best.” He takes my hand. “We’re about to go through the airlock.”
“We’re not through the airlock yet?”
He laughs. “When Forrest said he’ll have no problem catching up to us, he meant it.”
There’s a thud that I recognize as the gate of the airlock closing. Water covers the side window, and I have a Midwestern pang of guilt for not waving goodbye to Forrest even though he couldn’t see me.
“As soon as we’re out of the city, we can slide the observatory dome up.”
“Observatory?”
“Yes, it’s the real selling point for this specific model of voyager. You can really see everything around us.”
And I’m immediately taken back to the observation platform at their apartment and my time with Sterling.
“This one will be different than the one at home. Here, the animal population and currents are controlled by the city. But out in the open ocean? There will be swaths of nothingness and then suddenly vast amounts of life. It’s fascinating.
The best part, I think, will be that the window is visible from the bed. ”
The days roll together. And the only constant is Sterling not moving from the pilot seat.
Zion makes dinner with some help from Delmar and myself before we stumble as a trio into the bedroom.
Where I’m getting the best sleep of my life.
I don’t know if it’s the lull of the ocean or not worrying about Marlee and Annabelle for a change.
I stretch with my eyes closed, feeling the empty bed next to me.
There’s the mechanical glide of the outside door. “I’ve made you breakfast, and if you get hungry after that, there are some snacks in the cupboard.” Delmar smiles at me and dips his head, holding my cheek as he kisses me.
“I should get up.”
“Take your time. Have a shower when you’re ready.”
“You could come with me.” I hold on to his hand.
“I’m going to force Sterling to move his ass out of the chair.”
I laugh. “You do that. He shouldn’t be the only one having the fun.”
“I think I’m the one who’s been having fun.” He gives me another kiss and closes the door.
I stare at the food and then wrinkle my forehead at the comment about the snacks in the cupboard. Delmar’s adorable, always wanting to take care of me.
I shuffle off to the shower, the computer controls of which I’ve finally figured out so I don’t come out looking like a boiled lobster or an ice cube.
I’m humming and drying my hair when I let the bathroom door slide back into place.
But there on the bed is a fully dressed Sterling, fully passed out.
I watch him for a bit. He’s not nearly as intimidating with his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. From the chair on the other side of the room, I take a fuzzy blanket and cover him up. He grunts and rolls to his side, pulling the blanket with him.
The tray Delmar made me is missing some of the food. But that’s a good thing. Not only has Sterling barely been leaving the pilot seat, he’s hardly eaten anything. Or at least he’s never taken me up anytime I’ve offered to get him something.
I take the Veiled City version of a wrap and tuck it into a sack.
With care, I step onto the bed and reach for the ladder that leads to the small observation area.
I shimmy to the front, where I’m sitting over the piloting area on a cushion, and eat my breakfast in the dark with only the voyager’s headlights for company.
Zion was right when he said there would be areas of nothingness.
It’s freeing. The quiet, nothing but the whirl of the motors behind me. The pitch blackness surrounding us. I’m sure I will never forget this trip.
After a good while, I tuck my napkin into the bag and contemplate heading down.
“What are you doing up here?” Sterling’s voice cuts through the emptiness, and I jump.
I place my hand over my heart. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come up.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
I stare at his silhouette. From what Annabelle has said, mermen have amazing eyesight and hearing, unlike me. “Did you get something to eat?”
“Yes.” He turns and heads back down the ladder.
I was ready to go down. The rebel in me now wants to stay so it doesn’t look like I’m following him.
But also, it’s a little spooky up here by yourself after a while, especially when we’re in an area where there aren’t any fish.
I make my way down the ladder. The shower’s running, so I guess under an hour is all Sterling needs to sleep?
He may be a shifter, but everyone needs sleep.
I tidy up the bed. I end up throwing some of my clothes into the waterless washer.
Delmar explained it to me twice, but I’m still not sure I understand how it works.
Then I gather the dishes around the room to take out into the kitchen, but I don’t make it out the door before Sterling comes out of the shower.
He’s got a towel wrapped around his waist. He pauses at the closet to select clothes, which gives me ample time to watch drops of water cascade over his shoulder and down his muscular back.
I’ve never been one for tattoos, but Sterling’s are different, fine outlines of animals and intricate designs that I can only imagine mean something very precise.
A guy like him doesn’t walk into a shop and end up with characters on his body and not know what they mean, not without them meaning something to him.
He pulls on his trousers, letting the towel fall to the floor. “Don’t bother taking those things to the galley,” he growls.
“I don’t mind. Honestly, the washing up isn’t bad with Zion doing all the cooking.”
He glares at me and shrugs, pulling a shirt on over his head, and snags the towel from the floor. He’s in the bathroom when I take the tray to the door and give it a good yank. It doesn’t budge. I put the tray down and yank on it again.
“Delmar?” I slap on the door. But there’s not a sound coming from the hall.