Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
SHOCK
“What are you doing?”
Arc looks back at me from the panel on the wall, where he’s just tapped out a command and executed it. “Ordering a few things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Food. Clothes… if she’s going to be here, she’s going to be comfortable.”
I won’t argue with him on that. “You should order more water.”
“I did.” But he opens the panel up again and taps in a command for something else.
What have you ordered?
“Water, blankets, fuzzy socks, coffee… The other women seem to be feral for it. I got that tea Laurel drinks too. And mango juice. Andrea thinks about it all the time. But that might just be because she’s pregnant.
” His lips pinch and I try not to think about why.
“I got the sundry bathroom things I think she needs and cheese.”
The message tone makes us both flinch.
“Drift with an update on the crash?” I haven’t foreseen this particular message, so I don’t think we have anything to worry about.
Except it’s not a simple write up…
“Kimba, what a surprise,” I say as Drift’s mate appears on the large screen over the fire we’ve never made before now. “How can we be of assistance?” I ask while Arc sits.
“Just checking in.”
That is a more concerning response than if she’d accused us of something. “You’ve never ‘just checked in’ in your life. What do you need?”
Her smirk is a little guilty, like she knows she should have just come out with it.
But she is learning how to deal with all of us.
She hasn’t had enough time to figure out who responds best to what scenario; Kilo, for instance, would have taken that as an opportunity to drag her into an hour-long conversation about nothing until she forgot why she’d called in the first place.
“I get notified when certain… flagged items are ordered.”
Arc tips his face down and curses at the floor… not loudly enough she’d hear him.
“You’ll understand my… curiosity when I was notified that you’ve ordered a new bondmate kit.”
I bite my tongue, because of course he ordered one.
He shrugs. “I wanted to know what’s in it. There’s no reason I couldn’t order it, right?”
Her eyes narrow and I am reminded that she can see better now that she’s bonded to Drift.
“You’re lying to me.”
“I am not.” Arc looks at me. “Am I lying to her?”
“He’s not.” It’s just not the whole truth. And I think she knows it. “Does Drift have any more information about the crash?”
She scowls at me, and I don’t care that she knows I’m changing the subject. “Only that it won’t cause any major problems. The CSS is sending a crew out to help remove the wreckage. You may be asked to help keep a perimeter while they sort things out.”
The Continental Security Service could probably handle a cavrinskh attack themselves… but we can handle it better. “Just let us know.”
I hang up on her and look back at Arc.
“She’s going to come investigate if we don’t give her something to distract her.”
Arc can’t read her thoughts through the screen, and I haven’t seen that particular future, but I know he’s right.
“We’ll get Chrys settled and then we will tell her.”
He doesn’t like the answer, but he doesn’t argue with me.
The drone delivery tone echoes through the room, and Arc immediately goes to the door in the outpost wall and pulls the bin out.
He starts unloading, and I wince at the first piece of clothing that he sets on the counter.
A pair of pants that are so yellow, they hurt my eyes until my vision adjusts to them.
He shrugs. “She likes bright colors.”
“How many orders did you place?”
I expect there to be a bondmate kit in this delivery, but there isn’t.
“Five.” He lifts out a case of water and starts unloading it into the fridge. “If you think of something else, I need to get her chocolate.”
“Do humans need chocolate?” I don’t remember that from anything I’ve ever heard or read.
Shrugging, Arc folds up the now empty bin and slides into the return slot. “Cindy thinks about it too much for it not to be…”
“Hey.”
Chrys stands in the hallway with Risk behind her. He looks like he’s waiting for her to fall.
“You’re upright.” I walk toward her, stopping before I get too close. Don’t crowd her.
I hope Arc knows the thought is a reminder for me, not him.
She weaves a little, and I motion toward the couch, relieved when she sits close to the fire.
“I needed to walk around. Lying in that bed… it felt like there were bees in my skin.”
Risk grimaces, and I make a mental note to look up what bees are.
“Laurel told me the three of you keep to yourselves.” She snuggles the blanket more tightly around her. “But that you’re nice.”
“I think we’re nice.” Risk sits close enough that he can catch her if she starts to fall one way or another, but far enough away she won’t feel claustrophobic.
I hope.
Arc sits on the ledge in front of the fireplace and that gets Chrys’ attention.
“So, it’s not that you don’t like heat…?”
“Temperature doesn’t bother us,” I clarify. “Hot or cold… either’s fine, but since we’re out here, cold is usually what we have.”
“I don’t think Jess knows that.”
“We tend to stay away from her,” Arc says. “For my part, I’m pretty sure she appreciates that.”
“Jessica is his number one fan,” Risk says, snorting.
Chrys’ lips quirk in something that might be a smile. “She thinks you’re an asshole.”
Putting on that smarmy look he wears too well, Arc says, “She might be right.”
“I don’t think she is…” Chrys looks at him for a long moment, and his smarmy smile fades.
I wonder what she’s thinking that made him look away… almost ashamed.
“I’m not going to blame you for that. Just so you know.” She shifts again, yawning. “Jess thinks a lot of people are assholes when she doesn’t know them.”
“We should tell them you’re here.”
Arc glares at Risk, but we both know he’s only saying it because it’s true. Not because he wants to do it.
“I don’t want to tell my sisters I’m here.
For one, they will try to bulldoze me. For another…
I’d like to have more answers before I get hit with a million questions I can’t answer.
” She grimaces and tongues the hoop in the center of her lip and then one of the piercings on either side.
“But I do need to let one person know I’m here. ”
“Who?” I ask.
Arc interrupts, knowing before Risk. “You work for the Agency?”
Nodding, Chrys pulls the blanket down so she can get one arm out and then tugs it more tightly around her torso.
“I do marketing graphics and pitch ad copy at them. I don’t know if they’d notice that I wasn’t logging in, but I still want to tell my direct report.
She’s an absolute sweetheart and I don’t want to put her in a jam. ”
I stare at her bared arm… we all do.
The tone of a drone delivery echoes through the room, and Arc looks at it before turning back to her with another question.
“Would you like to change first?”.
CHRYS
There are a dozen options in front of me and honestly… I would have picked everything in the line up if I’d been given the chance to keep or reject them.
I’d blame it on Arc being able to read my mind, but I was so out of it before…
“Why did you pick these?” I ask, snuggling an electric blue pair of leggings. They’re so soft.
“You like color.”
That’s all he says. So simple. So predictable of me.
But I don’t really care.
“No underwear.” I meant it to be a question, but it’s a statement when it leaves my lips, and the dawning understanding makes me glance at the line of hips in front of me.
Interesting.
I wonder what fabric their suits are. Do they have it specially made?
Is there a tailor among their ranks? Is there a store where normal people can go get these?
Do they even have normal clothes? Do they go shopping?
Are there malls here? Or do they do everything in their version of online?
What’s their connection speed like? They can call Earth from the equivalent of a PC, so I would guess it’s good.
Arc’s brows are pinched, and he looks at me like he’s a little lost.
Oh.
“Sorry,” I say quickly, as a million other questions spiral.
“Don’t be.”
But I am. I gather up a few items and even that hurts. “I’m going to need help, I think?”
“Anything you need.” Arc scoops up all of the clothing and turns, watching me. Waiting.
“Bedroom?” I ask, and he nods.
“Just so you know, you’re going to have to tell me things. I can’t read minds, and I’m not great at guessing what people want from me.”
“I’m sorry.” He shuffles the clothes in his arms and then, instead of telling me anything at all, he picks me up.
“That is not talking.”
“I’m not good at it.” He sets me down beside the same bed I woke up in and then tosses my new clothes onto it.
“The best way to learn is to practice.”
Brows pinching even further, he presses his lips together and then looks down at the clothes. “What would you like to wear?”
At least he didn’t just grab at random and start changing me like a doll.
His entire face contorts. “I’m sorry.”
“I get it. I am totally throwing off your routine. Do you… do you want me to call Laurel and get out of here?”
“No.” The word is sharp. A quick sound. Almost a command.
“Okay, then you’re gonna have to get out of there.” I stretch onto my toes and immediately regret it, but follow through to tap his forehead. “And talk to me.”
“I will try to do better.”
“Good.” I look down at the options and grab the blue leggings again. “Are those unicorns?”
Arc pulls a shirt dress from the pile. The pale green fabric is dotted with round unicorns in varying colors, and I love how fat and squishy they look.
But it also looks like pajamas, so I set it aside and snatch up a veritable rainbow of options.
“This should work.” The fluffy sweater and three other layers should make it so I don’t have to walk around in a blanket cocoon anymore. “Now comes the not fun part.”
Peeling off the blankets, I shiver with each lost layer, and Arc’s jaw tics tighter until I think about it.
He very obviously forces himself not to react.