Authors: Lara Morgan
“I think so.” She glanced at Dalton.
“Dalton’s there?” Riley said.
Her insides did a flip. So this was another thing Riley was hiding from her. “He says he works for you. Is that true?”
“If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be there, you’d be locked up.” His tone was hard, but still Rosie wasn’t sure about this.
“He’s a Central,” she said, keeping an eye on Dalton, who was watching her like he thought she was going to run. “And how did–”
Riley cut her off. “You know those rogue news waves you keep seeing, about Helios?”
Rosie hesitated, flicking her gaze between Riley on the com and Dalton. “Yeah.”
“He makes them,” Riley said. “We’ve been working on them together. It’s okay; he’s safe.”
Rosie was speechless. Dalton looked pleased and sheepish at the same time.
“It’s true,” he said. “It’s how Riley found me.”
Rosie didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter because Riley was back to barking at her. “Okay now?”
She nodded.
“Good. Go inside. I’ll call again on this com. Yours is compromised; don’t use it.” The screen went black.
Damn. Rosie stared down at it for a second then gave it back to Dalton.
“So,” he said. “You–”
“Shut up.” Rosie walked past him to the house. Her head was pounding and she felt sick.
Dalton picked up the helmet and opened the door, standing against it so she could enter. Three shallow steps down from the entrance was a large open room, floored with dark tile. A long white couch and a coffee table faced a fireplace set in a freestanding wall, and the back wall was an expanse of glass. It held a faint, wavering reflection of her, courtesy of the one lamp in the room that was turned on. Beyond the glass was the suggestion of a deck and the white roll of the sea. The house felt big and clean and empty.
“We should look at that pulse burn.” Dalton moved past her, unzipping the bike suit. “Sit down.” He threw the helmet on the couch and peeled the suit off his torso, tying the arms around his waist. Underneath he wore a black tank top.
Rosie followed. Her arm was throbbing like hell. Everything had happened so fast she felt spun off her axis. She’d been chased, shot and now she was here with Dalton. Who worked for Riley. Her ribs ached, but not as much as her arm. She lowered herself down slowly and couldn’t stop a hiss of pain at the movement.
“You okay?” He moved to help, hazel eyes filled with concern, but she flinched back.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I need to have a look at the burn.”
“Really, are you a doctor now?” The pain was making her snarky.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” He headed off around the fireplace and down a dark hallway.
Rosie tried to peel her jacket off and bit back a scream as agony flared right down to her fingertips. It felt like someone was scraping needles through her veins. The room went blurry for a moment and sweat beaded on her forehead. She stayed still, trying to breathe and willing the room to stop moving.
“What did you do?”
She jumped, startled. She hadn’t even heard him come back.
“Tried to get my jacket off.” Rosie couldn’t lift her gaze from the floor; she was certain she would throw up or pass out if she moved.
“You should have waited.” She sensed movement, then his boots appeared in her field of vision as he sat on the coffee table in front of her. He leaned over and examined her shoulder.
“I’m going to take your jacket off.” He didn’t wait for her to respond but gently began easing it off. Rosie cried out as he got to her left arm and grabbed his forearm with her other hand, her nails digging into his skin.
“Sorry,” he said, but kept going until it was off. He dropped it on the couch. The pulse fire had singed a big hole in the shoulder. “That was my favourite jacket,” she said.
“Now it’s religious.” There was a faint smile on his lips.
She squinted at him.
“You know, holey,” he said.
“Hilarious,” she rasped.
“I’m going to put some stuff on the burn; try not to move.”
He scooted forwards so his long legs were on either side of her knees. Sitting, he was still taller than her and she felt small and hemmed in. She wasn’t sure she liked it, not after the day she’d had. And it was all too weird being here alone with Dalton Curtis. She watched half-dazed with pain, mesmerised by the way the muscles in his arms shifted when he moved.
“How does it look?” she said to his shoulder.
“Like you’ve been scraped by pulse-weapon fire.” He took a tube out of the medikit and she felt something cold and soft touch her wound. A blessed sense of relief oozed along her shoulder, the pain receding as he spread whatever it was across her skin. She closed her eyes.
“Oh, God.” The words came out involuntarily on a sigh.
He let out a short laugh. “Better?”
“Yes.” Her voice cracked.
“Who said I’m not a doctor?” His touch was light, skating over her shoulder and down her arm. “You know, Pilot Girl, you should be more careful.”
“Really? Thanks for the tip.” Her muscles felt like they were turning into syrup. But as the hurt receded, a new awareness rose. His fingers on her skin. How close he was, his thigh pressed against her knee. Rosie opened her eyes and tried to shift back.
“Um, I think I’m good now. Thanks.”
“Wait.” He held her arm. “Nearly done.” He smoothed the cream down her forearm, finishing at her hand. “Okay.” He sat back, wiping the residue on the pants of his bike suit.
“Thanks.” Rosie knew she sounded stiff and not thankful at all.
“Well, we are in this together, aren’t we?”
“Together?” Rosie repeated.
“Yeah.” He snapped shut the medikit and nudged her knees out of the way so he could stand up. “You know, both of us Riley’s little helpers. Here, have some water.” He picked up a glass from the coffee table and handed it to her.
Rosie drained it in three long gulps, watching him from the corner of her eye. Of course, it was delicious, pure water, not even a tang of recyc.
Dalton folded his arms loosely across his chest. “I didn’t know about you working for Riley either, not at first anyway. In case you were wondering.”
“Who says I was?” Rosie put down the glass.
He half-smiled. “I started to get suspicious when you beat me in the flight immersion test.”
“It wasn’t a test,” Rosie answered automatically, and he grinned.
“Yes, it was. Of course, I knew about Mars – not names, but enough. I’m pretty good at putting clues together. Then when you show up at the Academy and blitz me, well, I got curious.”
So that’s what his attention had been about. She was disappointed, then annoyed with herself for feeling that way. “That’s why you’ve been so friendly.”
He gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “Want some more water?”
She held out her glass and he picked up a bottle from the floor that he must have brought in earlier.
“Is it only the news waves you make for Riley?”
“Mostly. It takes a bit of time to put them together. I cut them here, broadcast them from a portable uploader.” A wry smile curved his lips. “Quality’s a lot better since Riley tracked me down. He has some serious tech.”
“Yeah, I know.” Rosie’s tone was still cool and his smile faded.
“What happened today?” he said. “How did you manage to end up on every Senate alert in the city?”
Rosie wasn’t sure how much to tell him. She hadn’t even told Riley about the message. “I made a mistake.” She took another long swallow.
He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re going with?”
“For now. Is that how you found me?”
“Riley was tracking the Senate wires. He sent me a ping saying they were looking for you, said I should get on my bike and get my arse to the hospital to pick you up. I was the closest.”
“And you knew it was me?”
A touch of self-satisfaction glinted in his eye. “Riley told me it was you, but like I said, I’d already guessed you were one of his, so I wasn’t surprised. I’m actually smart – for a rich Central boy.” He gave her a sideways look and she felt a blush creep up her neck. She had judged him pretty quickly when they’d first met.
He picked up her bag from the floor. “Come on. I’ll show you your room. Then I’ve gotta get changed and go out for a bit, make an appearance at the party.” He headed to a hallway that led from the lounge room. Rosie followed. She’d forgotten about the party. He’d been so keen on her going. Now he sounded bored with the whole idea.
“You’re still going?” she said.
“Can’t disappoint my fans, can I?” he said. “Down this wing is the bedrooms. Back there, past the fireplace, is the kitchen. Help yourself to anything you like.”
“I’m not hungry.” Being shot had a way of driving the appetite right out of you.
“You sure?” Dalton glanced over his shoulder. “You could stand to put some steak on.”
“Gee, thanks. Any more compliments for me today?”
Dalton turned away with a shrug.
The hallway followed the long glass wall then made a right-angled turn and dog-legged back to another hall. Dalton stopped at the next door, opening it and dumping her bag on a large bed that took up a good portion of the spacious room. The bedhead served as a room divider and behind it was a walk-through wardrobe and the white tile of a bathroom.
“Hope it’s okay. My room’s a bit further along, if you need anything. You’ll be on your own for a while till I come back. My dad basically never comes here and my mum, well – she’s away at the moment, so …” They stood looking at each awkwardly for a moment. “See you later then,” he said.
“Yep.” Rosie nodded. He left, closing the door behind him.
As soon as he’d gone, Rosie didn’t know what to do. She was tired, but it felt too early to sleep. She went to the one big window. It looked out over a deck, but beyond was just darkness and the night sky, stars bright against the black. She glanced at the com Riley had said not to use, then sat on the bed and took off her shoes very slowly. Her shoulder was stiffening up and starting to throb again. But that wasn’t what occupied her. She just couldn’t believe she was in Dalton Curtis’s house and that he worked for Riley.
Rosie was woken by soft knocking on the door.
“You awake?”
She opened sleep-crusted eyes. She was fully clothed and it was still dark outside. She rubbed her eyes and blinked. She didn’t remember lying down or turning out the light.
“Rosie?” Dalton was outside her door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and she squinted in the sudden glare of light from the hall.
“Sorry.” He was a dark silhouette in the doorway. “Riley’s here to see you.”
She struggled to sit up, her whole body aching. “Now?”
“Yeah, I know. He said it was safer to come now.” He took a step into the room. Her eyes had adjusted and she could see he was wearing a pair of loose dark blue pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt. His hair curled against his face on one side and stuck up on the other.
“What time is it?”
“After three.”
“In the morning?” Rosie stumbled as she got to her feet.
“He’s in the lounge. You don’t mind if I don’t wait up, do you?” Dalton’s last words were lost in a huge yawn. He covered his mouth and pushed hair away from his face.
“Sure, go back to bed. It’s me he wants to tear into shreds anyway.”
“All right, good luck.” He turned away, and she watched his shadow grow on the wall as he went back to his room.
Riley was sitting on the white couch staring out through the floor-to-ceiling glass. The house had that weird hushed feeling all places get in the small hours of the night: an absence of life, a bated breath feeling of the world waiting for the light to return.
A pit of dread sat in the base of Rosie’s stomach as she approached him.
“Dalton said you got hit by a pulse. How are you feeling?” His tone was deepwater calm, his gaze cool and assessing.
From outside came the soft persistent roar of the sea on the beach. Thud and wash.
“Um, yeah, I’m fine. He put some stuff on it.” She sat down.
“You’ve brought trouble to us, Rosie,” he said quietly. “And at a time when we really do not need it.”
“I know,” she said. That quiet tone was worse, a million times worse, than getting shouted at. The disappointment in his eyes made her feel ill. “I’ve …” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly too dry, then tried again. “I need to tell you something.”
“About how the Senate has vision of you in the hospital?”
She felt a scared leap inside. “I got a message on my com.” She pulled it from her pocket and held it out to him. “Two days ago.”
He took it and silently scanned her messages. The lines of his face deepened, but his voice was weary when he spoke. “Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I did,” Rosie said, “that day Pip was there. I was going to tell you but everything got … complicated.” She exhaled. “Then I was scared to go back in case whoever it was followed me. I could have led them to you. I didn’t know what to do. And Aunt Essie wasn’t around.” Anxiety and fear made her voice rise. What was she supposed to do? She knew she’d messed up. “She’s been out a lot.” Rosie clenched her hands into fists. “Has she been with you?”
“Sometimes.” Riley rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It’s not all your fault. I should have thought about the hospital surveillance long ago and got rid of it.”