Girl From Above #3: Trapped (9 page)

It had worked before, but now such coping mechanisms were little more than a bandage over a gaping wound. James had been right. My mental state couldn’t be sustained. Distraction—I needed a distraction.

“What is this place?”

Numbers, code, calculations, they crested, rising higher. I tried to block it, to think through it or around it.

“District morgue.” Caleb leaned against the table and crossed his arms. Blood splattered his forearms, but it wasn’t his. “We’ll lay low here until the mob clears.”

“I cannot wait,” I said quietly. “Something is wrong, something critical that I do not understand.”

His side-on gaze turned to me, but there was no concern in it. Strength, yes, as well as determination and something else. A wry glint of delight twinkled in his dark eyes. A dangerous lust for violence. The mob, the attack, he’d enjoyed it in a way a man who’s accustomed to fighting for survival does.

“You know what I used to do when I got scared?” he asked.

“Haley believed you were never afraid.”

He flinched, but it wasn’t long before his gaze crept back to mine. “I used to count the stars. There are enough of them in the black to keep you counting forever—to keep you distracted.” He lifted his gaze as though he could see through the ceiling and the building and Lyra’s domes into the black beyond.

“What do you do now?”

“Huh?”

“You said when you
used
to count stars. What do you do now, when you’re scared?”

His eyes narrowed by a degree and his lips tightened. I could focus on those things, the micro expressions hidden on his face and the reasons behind them: lies, suspicion, concern, arousal. He tried to hide it, to fix his emotion behind a smile, but in doing so, he revealed more.

“Now?” he said, pushing off the table to move closer. “I don’t get scared. Not any more. To get scared, you gotta care.”

“That’s a lie.” I straightened, acutely aware that all of his focus was now on me, or more specifically, on my eyes. He stared at me, through me, the way he’d told me I often did with him.

“A lie?” He laughed, short and sharp. “Right. I forgot you’re a pain in the ass. Fine. I drink, I gamble, and I fuck. As a fixer, I go looking for trouble. I look fear in the eye and tell it to fuck off. I grew up being afraid, but it’s only ever beaten me once.”

“When?” I asked.

"When?” He laughed a dry chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “When fear hits you, you don’t know how you’re going to react. Everyone thinks they’ll be the hero an’ do the right thing. Fear doesn’t give a fuck about what you think. Not true fear, the kind that creeps up on you and hits without warning. I was a fleet captain. Had fear trained right outta me. I was the best they'd had since the Blackout killed fleet’s heroes. I wasn’t afraid of anything, until that night in the Chitec warehouse.” The laughter in his eyes faded along with his smile. “I was afraid of everything that night.”

“You were nineteen. There is little use in hating your younger self, Captain. It won’t change who you were or the mistakes you think you’ve made.”

A smile skimmed his lips, but he didn’t argue. He gently settled his hand on my hip, so gently I almost didn’t notice until the tactile data alerted me. I began to look, but Caleb touched my chin and stopped me from following the sensory input.

“I hate who I was,” he said. “Who I am.”

“I know.” Caleb Shepperd was a man made of hate, and somewhere inside the flood of data threatening to irrevocably damage my processes, I understood that hate. He wanted to rage against the wrongs, and so did I.

“I hated you,” I said, “but I was mistaken.”

The endless march of numbers faded into background static. His hand on my hip—his touch—it silenced everything.

“Synthetics don’t make mistakes,” he said with a sly hint of irony.

“There’s a good man inside Caleb Shepperd.”

“If there is, I haven’t met him.”

I had, on Mimir. He’d saved me beneath a boardwalk, and I’d shot him in return. That man, the one who’d held me in his arms to keep me warm, he was a good man, but if he continued as he was, that glimmer of goodness would die, same as whatever lived inside me was dying.

He shifted a step, bringing him close enough for me to feel the heat of him. His light touch ignited a dance of new sensations, the kind I deliberately sought out and secretly hungered for.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“You think too much. I can stop that.”

S
o I wasn’t
bubbles and I sure as shit wasn’t a mathematical problem that would keep her processes fired up, but I could distract her, and going by what James had told me, that was all she needed to beat the data overload.

I knew all about distractions. Fuck, I lived for them. And while the riot burned itself out, I could do with losing myself, if just for a little while. Just long enough to get One’s head back on track. It seemed to be working. Whether it was her programming that made her look at me and respond the way a woman might, I didn’t know and didn’t care. Her pale lips had parted, inviting me to taste her. And those eyes—fuck, she might be a machine, but there was more behind those eyes than numbers.

This is crazy.
I tilted her chin up, and she let me. She could lash out and break my neck at any second, but her perfect face—all scratched up by the attack—didn’t betray any hint that she’d slap me down. She looked like she wanted more.

Just to help her focus. Nothing else. Don’t go there …

It wasn’t a kiss, but more of a test to see if she’d let me in. She tasted like cherries and my memories exploded. Haley had tasted the same. She’d always let me make the first move—every time—like she didn’t believe I wanted her until I proved it. I almost stopped it with One right there. How much of a distraction did she need to get her shit together? She hadn’t moved yet, still standing rod-straight, her hip cool beneath my hand. Maybe that meant she needed more, or maybe she was about to rip my heart out of my chest.

This is fucked up.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her lips brushing mine.

How could a machine built to kill be so fucking vulnerable?

Because she’s different.
Fran had figured her out right from the very beginning. #1001 was unique. It had taken me longer to realize it, but I’d known it the second she’d deliberately missed the headshot on Mimir. The synths were killers. One chose not to be.

I eased my hand up the curve of her waist and watched her pupils widen, drinking down the sensation. She liked it, and a very human surge of need sat up and took notice. She still didn’t move, but I could live with that. This was just a coping mechanism. Nothing else. I could tell myself that shit until the stars died, it didn’t change the fact that I really, really wanted to taste her again and touch her some more. I’d thought about it often enough.
Fuck, I’m in trouble.

The second kiss was different. I cupped her grazed cheek and tasted her because I needed to. Her lips were softer than I’d imagined and slightly cool. I teased my tongue in, testing her, waiting, wanting. Shit, it was like being back at college and not having a fuckin’ clue what I was doing. All those quick fumbles behind the fleet admiral’s office. I knew how to fuck, but this? I didn’t know what this was.

She didn’t respond. Maybe she didn’t know how or she didn’t want to. Maybe it was me she didn’t want? That was probably for the best.

I broke away and wore the smile that hid all the fucked up shit going on in my head. “Distracted yet?”

She blinked, lips still slightly parted and her eyes still wide—and hungry. “Yes.”

“Okay then.” I realized I still had her in my hands. Hot on that realization came the fact that I didn’t want to let her go.

“I wish we had more time,” she said.

I plucked my hands from her and stepped back too quickly, almost tripping over my own feet.
I wish we had more time. Stars are wishes and wishes are dreams.
“Don’t …” Her words struck hard. “You aren’t her, One. Don’t be her.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Just, don’t. And don’t be sorry. Okay? You ain’t got shit to be sorry for.”

She nodded once. “Captain, we cannot stay here. I must return to James. And after Tarik’s confession,
Starscream
may be authorized for flight clearance. The cloud newsfeeds confirm there are numerous riots breaking out throughout Lyra. The police do not have the resources to detain you.”

“Right.”
Stars are wishes.
Goddammit.
When would the past leave me alone? “I … okay …”

Shit, I was still running hot and she’d had to go and dump ice water on me. My head was full of Haley and my body full of need, and she was standing there, a fucking beacon of temptation with a “look but don’t touch” sign hung around her neck. Did every part of her taste like cherries?

“In your aroused state, you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Thank you, One, once again, for pointing out the fuckin’ obvious.” I met her gaze and found her smiling. Oh man, she was priceless. A walking, talking mindfuck, and I was putty in her perfect hands. “Let’s move out.”

L
yra’s streets were vacant
. The rich had made a run for it while the average folks who worked to keep Lyra the entertainment capital of the nine systems had put down their tools to join the demonstrations. It had been a long-time coming. One had just lit the touchpaper.

It was time to get the fuck off Lyra before the port authority locked it down.

One and me made it back to
Starscream
in one piece. We’d skimmed most of the demonstrations, only coming up against one problem when we crossed paths with a few folks out to do some damage. They’d happened to recognize One’s perfect face from the newsfeed. She’d put them down in two moves, and I’d found my mind wandering back into the gutter. Jesus, I couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her.

As soon as we hit
Starscream’s
hold, James rushed to One’s aid.

“Okay, listen up!” I barked. Bren entered the hold, and I’d be damned if he didn’t look relieved to see One and me. “There’s a chance that due to Tarik’s live confession we’ll get clearance. In that case, we’ll be off this rock soon. You should know the male synthetic is no longer a threat, but anyone who’s seen footage of him—it—killing a man will be gunning for any and all synths, including One. It’s getting rough out there. We need to keep our heads down and skirt any trouble before it finds us. Doctor, fix up One. Bren, with me on the bridge.”

One’s brilliant blue eyes slid purposefully to me. What I really wanted to do was spend some time, just her and me, alone. She’d read the truth and I had nothing left to hide. Just the way it should be.

Her hint of a smile—the one I could easily be imagining—promised more. She followed Lloyd out of the hold, and I watched her go. When I’d seen Tarik beating on her, I’d have torn through hell to save her. One was better than him, better than all of us. There was no way I would’ve let that synthetic fuck put her down. The surprise in her eyes had made my almost-too-late attempt at heroics worth the risk.

On
Starscream’s
bridge, the view outside the obs window didn’t bode well for an early departure. The dock throbbed with people queuing to board their ships or hoping for a lift to anywhere. “Fuck.”

Bren leaned over the flightdash and peered at the skies above. “They’re holding ships in low atmo. It’s tight up there.”

I picked up my ship’s comms and tucked it into my ear. “Lyra PA, this is Captain Shepperd of the
Starscream Independent
six-zero-six. Requesting flight clearance.”

“You an’ half the population of Lyra, Captain,” a woman’s no-bullshit voice came back. “There’s a substantial wait time. I’ve logged your request. Please wait for your confirmation code.”

Bren braced his hands on the dash and craned his neck. His frown darkened. “You remember when we used to spot ships making the Vancouver approach and we’d try to guess their designation from their silhouettes?”

“Shit, I remember you sucked at it. I won all your cards and you told mom I stole them.”

Bren huffed a laugh, but his expression was far from lighthearted. “There’s a ship right over us. You’re not going to like its profile.”

“Doesn’t matter. Right now, we’re not going anywhere.” I tapped my comms. “
Starscream
to Lyra PA. Any news on that code?”

“Hold,
Starscream
.”

“Caleb-Joe.” Bren’s voice caught. “It’s making a descent from … five thousand meters, maybe less.”

“In this traffic? Are they nuts?”

I shoved from my seat and twisted to get a look at the speckled Lyra airspace above us. The sky glistened with ships, and sure enough, one was making a descent right over us. I recognized its profile the second I clocked its blinking lights. Horseshoe-shaped, harrier class, brute force, and armed like it was bringing a knuckle-duster to a fistfight.
Starscream
was ten times the ship, but in low atmo, we couldn’t outrun her, and firing was out of the question if we all wanted to live.

“Fuck. Those Candes have balls of steel.”

“They’re crazy to fly manual in choked airspace.”

I dropped back into my seat and hailed the port authority. “Hey, honey, how’s about you free our umbilical so we can stretch our legs out here? We’ve been docked a while. Could do with a rattle to free up her joints, y’know.”

“What’s it worth, Captain?”

Considering I was officially broke and had zero goods in the hold, I didn’t have much to bargain with. “A free ride to wherever you wanna go.”

“Are you trying to bribe a port authority official, Captain Shepperd?”

“Only if it’s working.”

“Mm.” She sounded less than impressed. “Your docking report says you’re on bail. I’m waiting to hear back from the police regarding your existing status.”

Shit. The police weren’t going to be of any help. “I didn’t do it.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jo.”

“Jo, is this the voice of a guilty man?”

Bren rolled his eyes. He’d heard this routine before. “A thousand meters.”

I pointed at Fran’s flight chair, indicating for Bren to sit, and flicked
Starscream’s
controls to manual. I could yank the umbilical and clamps free, though it’d cause one hell of a mess. The backlash from the umbilical could damage
Starscream
’s hull, grounding us anyway, and I’d have to add Lyra to my list of places to steer clear of, but that would beat having a Cande harrier box us in.

Bren settled into the chair and buckled up. He dropped the obs screen from above. The small screen lit up like the night sky, and each little pinprick of light was a ship waiting to get free of Lyra’s domes. “Nine hundred meters. If you’re going to get airborne, you’d better do it now.”

Getting airborne was the easy part. “Jo, you can either release me and forget we had this chat, or this dock is about to get fucked up, and I don’t think you need the drama on your shift, right?”

“Clamps released.” Two booms sounded through the ship to prove it. “Umbilical free. Please wait for your departure window, Captain.”

I tapped the comms off. “Gotta love folks who look out for themselves first and fuck everyone else.”

Waiting, I was not. I clutched
Starscream’s
control columns and wished I hadn’t left Fran on Asgard. She could have flown
Starscream
through the eye of a needle. I was more of a ram it in until it breaks kinda guy.

Bren set to work priming
Starscream’s
proximity sensors, setting their tolerances to low. “It’s gonna get tight,” he warned.

“Just another day in the black.”
Starscream’s
atmo-engines rumbled deep as I asked the ship for all she had. “Time to dance.”