Chapter 8
Frederique
My cheeks still felt like they were on fire as I led the way into the Lancing Light, toward where I knew the escape pods were—at least a few of them.
Some ships only relied on their short-range shuttle for emergencies, but the Lancing Light had been kitted out with more serious options.
After all, we were undertaking a two-year journey; the risk of running into danger had been more than average.
Clearly, the extra safety feature hadn’t helped one bit. I tried not to feel sore about that.
It was much easier to focus on positive things, on the warm, excited feeling that kiss had brought alive inside my chest. This Talacan guy was such a mystery, starting with how he’d gotten here and who he was.
There was no doubt in my mind he had a very long and very convoluted story to tell.
It started with his supposed name. Sineater?
Come on, nobody was called that at birth.
Even terrible parents gave their kids better names.
If I considered the chance of him finding me—alive and well—aboard a somehow intact ship at the bottom of the ocean on a dangerous planet…
his words, not mine. What were the odds?
Astronomical. So why was he here? I doubted it was because he was looking for a lost diplomatic mission barely anyone knew about, from more than seven hundred years in the past.
And then there was all that simmering heat that crackled between us.
He acted cold, even mean, and seemed to want to keep his distance, but I had stopped buying that act a while ago.
He had the sweetest symbiont companion, and every subconscious gesture seemed primed to protect me.
From a hand on my shoulder to keep me from falling over, to the way he’d thrown himself between me and that horrible creature attacking, twice now.
Once with pretty severe injuries as a result.
And you couldn’t tell me that didn’t hurt, even if he healed fast.
“The pods are in this hall. It’s closest to the hull.
There’s an identical bay like this directly on the opposite side of the ship,” I said, keeping my tone neutral, as if I were lecturing a classroom of university students, not talking to a real, flesh-and-blood Son of Ragnar—one who had stuck his tongue down my throat not long ago and nearly caused me to combust on the spot.
I had a feeling that giving him any idea of how strongly he affected my libido would be a terrible idea.
He was too bossy, and I needed to figure out whether that was a good thing or a bad thing for me.
He kept his distance as he looked at the row of hatches, and I could not get a read on his expression.
It was not my nature to prattle to fill a silence, but I did enjoy being armed with knowledge so I could make tactful and informed decisions.
That I needed to get off the ship and off this planet was a given, and that this man called the Sineater was my best bet to do so was also obvious.
How much had the universe changed while I slept?
That was the big question. What if there weren’t even any humans left alive?
What if this Talac was now part of the UAR and here to drag me home in chains?
He hadn’t said anything about why he was here, and I had to stop thinking that it was just because he hated talking.
The hatches were small, and the pods seated two humans—if you didn’t mind getting up close and personal.
Squeezing into one with the Talacan would be an extremely tight fit, and I had a feeling he was beginning to realize that.
On the other hand, each taking a separate pod was a recipe for disaster.
We’d lose each other. That wouldn’t be in my best interest right now, but perhaps it was in his?
“Why are you here?” I asked, on the heels of that very dark and suspicious thought.
My fingers curled toward my wrists and brushed the fine strands of shimmering silver that clung there.
Tiny pieces of his symbiont, pieces that Val had left behind.
Why? What did it mean? A way to track me?
Control me? Had I become his prisoner without realizing?
My stare had to be pretty fierce; he had to feel it into the back of his smooth, gray head.
He didn’t turn, didn’t so much as twitch a muscle.
It was getting annoying that he didn’t answer, and I had my hands propped on my hips, toes tapping against the floor before I realized I was expressing my frustration that loudly.
He didn’t look, but I was certain he knew.
Val had sat down next to him in her Gracka shape, and she was wagging her tail and giving him not-so-subtle nudges against his thigh with her pointed snout.
When he finally answered, it was as he hunkered down by the hatch and ran his fingers over the control unit, reading data, clearly experienced with the way these worked.
“I’m here because I was sent to kill someone, or several someones, depending on what I’d find.
” That was it, said coolly, as if he were talking about the weather, not murder.
I glanced over my shoulder at the dark ship and the empty hallways.
Everyone aboard was dead; I was the only one left alive, unless Davidson really had been incorporated into that strange, alien creature.
A xenomorph of the strangest proportions, with properties possibly similar to Val’s.
Maybe Sin was here for that thing, not me…
The shiver of unease that shot down my spine was not quite fear, but it wasn’t trust, either.
I knew next to nothing about him; he really could be here to kill me.
His head tilted to the side just a tad, one silver eye gleaming at me from beneath his brow.
I thought the corner of his mouth tilted up—a hint of a smile—and my stomach twisted.
He was laughing at my expense, and taking a good, long minute to do it.
Eventually, though, he drawled in a lazy, almost bored tone: “My sensors caught a faint signal from your ship, and I thought it prudent to check it out so there would be no strange surprises.”
So it had been by accident that he’d found the Lancing Light; he hadn’t been looking for it at all. My shoulders lowered as tension left my spine. If he had not seen that little blip on his sensors, he never would have known I was here at all. That my ship had landed on the bottom of an ocean.
“I’m going to complete my mission once we get to the surface,” Sin said, rising and giving the hatch a nudge with his boot so it sprang open.
He pointed a finger at me. “I’m going to kill the bastard I’m here to kill, and you’d do well to stay out of my way.
Got that?” Everything about him was dark now, sinister, mean.
He was trying to intimidate me, scare me so I’d meekly nod my head and do as he wanted.
Perhaps he hoped it would make me want to keep my distance.
Tough. Backing down was just not in my genes, be it a scientific problem or one of a more personal nature.
This was why I’d signed on for a mission to the Zeta Quadrant, because I fought hard for what I believed in.
I didn’t want to believe this guy would hurt me, and I didn’t want to believe the passion that had flared between us was a lie.
My fingers touched the silver around my wrists again, then rose to touch more of the stuff clinging to my throat.
I scoffed, then a laugh escaped, and I shook my head.
No, he would not hurt me; I had nothing to fear from him at all.
The faith in that was absolute, although I had no concrete explanation for it yet.
I laughed harder when his expression took on a hint of confusion. Good—let him be the one on edge for once. I had had enough of that already.
Giving in a moment later, I stepped up next to him to check what he’d done on the controls, then adjusted them to better accommodate both of us inside that small pod.
“It’s gonna be a bit of a squeeze. How did you get aboard?
Didn’t you arrive with a ship of your own?
” I leaned a bit lower to peer into the small escape pod and take note of the very limited seating space.
A bit like a drum, we’d just be strapped in facing each other, then handed over to the autopilot and its very limited propulsion to take us to the surface of the ocean.
It was a pod made to withstand a whole lot of pressure and damage, but it still looked flimsy and tiny.
“I swam down,” Sin said, and I nearly leaped out of my skin when he touched me, his hand sliding along my spine to my ass—a far too proprietary touch for a guy I’d just met, even if we’d played tonsil hockey not that long ago.
“Val offers the perfect protection against all the water pressure, but I am willing to trust this pod to do its job, tight squeeze or not. The creature is wounded; now is our best shot.”
I reflected on my small bag of belongings, including my tablet with possible data on the Sons of Ragnar, but quickly had to conclude it wouldn’t be worth the effort.
Not at the risk of running into that tentacled xenomorph again, which may or may not have absorbed Davidson’s body.
Gripping his big wrist, I pulled his hand from my ass and gave him my most withering stare.
“Then let’s go. Provided you know how to respect personal space. ”
I did not expect that to make him laugh, but it did.
He tipped back his head, throat bobbing as the sound burst from him.
Loud, almost roaring with it, and completely free and unfettered.
“I need to respect your personal space? Human, you’re the one invading mine!
” I flung his hand at his chest, making my point in what I thought was a most elegant fashion.
Then I clambered into the tiny pod and tried to make myself as small as possible.