Chapter 10 #2
“Sin?” I called out, half-whispering because something told me this wasn’t Sin and I shouldn’t draw attention to myself.
I was in a shuttle capable of space flight; it wasn’t easy to break into one of those.
I had a feeling that whoever was on the other side could.
Sin probably could, with the help of Val.
Crossing the small craft, I went to the pilot seat and peered at the screens that lined the console.
All of this technology looked sleek and unfamiliar.
A design I’d never seen before and couldn’t link to any species I knew.
It certainly wasn’t Talacan. But, as luck would have it, the texts displayed on the screens were in Talacan—probably set to his native language by Sin himself. And that, I could read.
Sensors indicated the rocky outline of the small island we were on, tidal charts of the ocean that surrounded it, and some kind of status about the night cycle.
We were approaching dawn in our location, which hopefully meant that it would soon be light outside.
There did not appear to be anything outside.
Not so much as a blip on the proximity alert, and no trees to tap against the hull either.
Though I had seen some dark foliage on the way to the shuttle, none of it had grown close by.
The scratching noise came again, and I found my hand tightening on the gun.
The warm strands of Val heated against my throat, as if they were responding to my fear.
Something was outside, and whatever it was—or whoever it was—I doubted they meant well.
Where was Sin? My eyes scanned the sensor readings again, fingers touching the screen to scroll sideways over the small island.
There was a building there, but it also displayed no life signs.
Who would want to live in this place anyway?
If anyone had, they probably would have found me long ago.
No, this world was empty—abandoned—except for the shadows beneath the waves.
I was filled with horror as I vividly remembered, and then let my imagination run away with the recollection.
The shadow in the waves, spreading like an ink stain as it gobbled up the escape pod.
Had it gobbled up the Lancing Light in the same way?
Was that why everyone was dead? Again, why not me?
The hatch didn’t just seem to echo with a soft scraping noise this time, it actually groaned, as if deep pressure were being exerted on it.
That was not good. That was really bad, in fact.
My heart was pounding as I twisted around the seats and pushed some crates into place as a makeshift barrier in front of the hatch.
If that was Davidson again—or something like him—I wouldn’t survive this with the flimsy protection of a gun and some crates. But I sure as hell was going to try.
The resolve shocked me into further action, and I gratefully welcomed it after the odd despondence from before my nap.
I had somehow survived over seven hundred years in stasis, traveled through time, if you will.
There might not be a way back, but I was going to make damn sure there was a way forward.
Whoever was coming through the hatch was going to regret doing so.
That didn’t mean I was prepared for the sudden, violent ripping away of the hatch.
It was like the shuttle was in the grip of a giant, and he’d pried the lid open with thick, clumsy fingers.
Cold rushed in through the hole, and for a moment, I was faced with nothing but utter blackness.
That could be the night on this morbid planet, but just as easily, it could be one of those freaky shadows from beneath the water.
I didn’t blink, I didn’t wait. I pressed the trigger of the pistol with single-minded focus and was relieved when laser fire lit up the darkness outside.
It blasted through the open hatch with a sizzle but did not appear to strike anything.
There was no recoil on the pistol, but my hands ached from how tightly I’d gripped it.
Fear, thick like oil, clung to everything as I waited.
Did something move? Was it a tentacle or a shadow, was it foe or friend?
My eyes flicked to the console with the sensor readings, certain I’d see some sign of life on it by now.
Still nothing. But when my gaze shot back to the open hatch…
On the ground, just inside the door, a small pile of things lay, dripping wet and smelling of something sweet but foul, like decay.
I kept staring, blinking twice but otherwise unwilling to miss so much as a microsecond.
Was it alive? That little smelly pile, or was it a strange gift, or perhaps a lure?
I did not move; I was not about to set foot outside this shuttle if I could help it.
Nothing could convince me to be that brave, certainly not a smelly pile of weirdness.
It might have been my imagination, but I was almost certain it was moving, sliding closer to me.
And then I saw it: the edge of a tentacle, half-hidden behind the pile, pushing it closer toward me.
I pressed the trigger, screaming with fear and fury as I aimed for that black appendage. “Get away from me!”
I definitely must have blinked then. One moment I was squeezing hard on the trigger and laser fire was erupting from my weapon; the next…
Sin was just suddenly there. He had his hand around mine, freeing the pistol from my grip.
The handle blinked red, probably indicating it had no charge left.
It felt hot, and things smelled of smoke and singed metal.
Everything inside the shuttle was bright, and the hatch was a sheet of gleaming silver.
Blood coated Sin’s armor—silver, like Val’s—in lurid red splatters.
“Sit down,” he said, a firm command he expected me to obey.
My legs gave out in an instant, and I found myself sitting on the shuttle floor, still struggling to process the abrupt change in circumstances.
“Not there!” he growled, but I could not even fix my mistake.
He swept in, picked me up off the floor, and then casually dropped me into the navigator’s seat.
“We’re taking off,” he warned, silver flicking away from his arm in strange, smoothly organic tendrils. They pulled the flight harness around me and closed the buckles while he powered the shuttle with precise hands and angled us toward a dawn-streaked sky.
“Wait, the hatch…” I started to say, just as the force of our takeoff pressed me hard into the seat.
For a long moment, I could not twist my head enough to glance at it and see if it was closed.
When we began to level off just a little, I tried, and stared in confusion at the silver that covered the hole.
Was that Val? Was she enough to block out the heat of leaving a planet’s atmosphere, and then the icy vacuum of space? Was he crazy?
Horrified, I flicked my gaze back to my Talacan companion.
His grin was sharp, almost feral, and possibly the scariest thing I’d ever laid eyes on.
That said a lot, all things considered. The man was crazy, utterly bonkers.
He was flying us casually into space with a gaping hole in the side of the shuttle, like it didn’t matter one bit.
Not just that, but he was covered in blood, making it obvious he had been up to no good.
Hadn’t he said he was here to kill someone?
And the bastard hadn’t even bothered to assure me he didn’t mean me.
If it weren’t for the mate bond I was certain existed, I would have believed right then that he did plan to murder me—in my sleep, maybe in this chair right here—just because that was his idea of fun.
For a brief moment, I doubted the mate bond was even real, because what cruel fate would tie me to a man like that?
Then something flickered in his bright silver gaze, and I wanted to believe, very desperately, that it was concern.