Winter (11 page)

“Got everything we need?” said Thorne, chipper as ever. Iko, Cress, and Wolf filed in after him.

Kai dropped Cinder’s hands and she took a step back, adjusting her tool belt. “The pod’s ready. Triple-checked. There shouldn’t be any surprises.”

“And the guest of honor?”

“I have everything I came with,” said Kai, indicating his rumpled wedding clothes.

Iko stepped forward and handed Kai a box labeled
PROTEIN OATS
. “We have a gift for you too.”

He flipped it over to the child’s game printed on the back. “Yum?”

“
Open it
,” said Iko, bouncing on her toes.

Prying open the top, Kai turned it over and dumped a thin silver chain and a medallion into his palm. He lifted it up to eye level, inspecting the rather tarnished insignia. “‘The American Republic 86th Space Regiment,’” he read. “I can see why it made you think of me.”

“We found it in one of the old military uniforms,” said Iko. “It’s to remind you that you’re one of us now, no matter what happens.”

Kai grinned. “It’s perfect.” He looped the chain around his neck and tucked the medallion under his shirt. He gave Cress a quick farewell embrace, then pulled Iko into a hug. Iko squeaked, frozen.

When Kai pulled away, Iko looked from him, to Cinder, then back. Her eyes suddenly rolled up into her head and she collapsed onto the floor.

Kai jumped back. “What happened? Did I hit her power button or something?”

Frowning, Cinder took a step closer. “Iko, what are you doing?”

“Kai hugged me,” said Iko, eyes still closed. “So I fainted.”

With an awkward laugh, Kai turned to face Cinder. “You’re not going to faint too, are you?”

“Doubtful.”

Kai wrapped his arms around Cinder and kissed her, and though she wasn’t used to having an audience, Cinder didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. An impractical, uncalculating part of her brain told her to not let go. To not say good-bye.

The light mood was gone when they separated. He set his brow against hers, the tips of his hair brushing her cheeks. “I’m on your side,” he said. “No matter what.”

“I know.”

Kai turned to face Wolf last. He lifted his chin and adjusted his fine shirt. “All right, I’m ready when you—”

The punch hit Kai square in the cheek, knocking him back into Cinder. Everyone gasped. Iko jerked upward with a surprised cry as Kai pressed a hand against his face.

“Sorry,” said Wolf, cringing with guilt. “It’s better when you don’t see it coming.”

“I somehow doubt that,” said Kai, his words slurred.

Cinder pried his hand away to examine the wound, which was flaming red and already beginning to swell. “You didn’t break the skin. He’s fine. It’ll bruise up nicely by the time he’s back on Earth.”

“Sorry,” Wolf said again.

Kai gave his head a shake and didn’t complain when Cinder pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “It’s weirdly attractive.”

His laugh was wry, but appreciative. He kissed her one last time before hurrying into the podship, like he might change his mind if he stayed for another moment.

“Do I get a good-bye kiss too?” said Thorne, stepping in front of Cinder.

Scowling, Cinder shoved him away. “Wolf’s not the only one who can throw a right hook around here.”

Thorne chuckled and raised a suggestive eyebrow at Iko.

The android, still on the floor, shrugged apologetically. “I would love to give you a good-bye kiss, Captain, but that lingering embrace from His Majesty may have fried a few wires, and I’m afraid a kiss from you would melt my central processor.”

“Oh, trust me,” said Thorne, winking at her. “It would.”

For an instant, while the joke was still written across his face, Thorne’s gaze flickered hopefully toward Cress, but Cress was captivated by her own fingernails.

Then the look vanished and Thorne was marching to the pilot’s side of the shuttle.

“Good luck,” said Cinder, watching them adjust their harnesses.

Thorne gave her a quick salute, but it was Kai she was worried about. He tried to smile, still rubbing his cheekbone, as the doors sank down around them. “You too.”

Twelve

Kai watched Thorne’s hands, seemingly competent, as they toggled a few switches on the podship’s control panel. They emerged from the Rampion’s dock and dove toward planet Earth. Thorne tapped some coordinates into the computer and Kai was surprised at the jolt of longing he felt to see the satellite imagery of the Commonwealth appear on the screen.

The plan was for Thorne to leave Kai at one of the royal safe houses—far enough from civilization that the podship should go undetected, if they were quick about it, but close enough to the city that Kai would be retrieved within an hour of alerting his security staff to his return.

“This must be weird for you,” Thorne said, dragging his fingers across a radar screen. “Your cyborg girlfriend being a wanted outlaw and your fiancée’s niece and all that.”

Kai grimaced, which made his cheek start smarting again. “Honestly, I try not to think about the details.” He shifted his gaze toward the Rampion as it receded fast from the viewing window. “Does she really call herself my girlfriend?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spent an evening gossiping and painting each other’s toenails since the kidnapping.”

Glaring, Kai leaned back against the headrest. “I’m already uncomfortable with you piloting this ship and being in control of my life. Try not to make it worse.”

“Why does everyone think I’m such a bad pilot?”

“Cinder told me as much.”

“Well, tell Cinder I’m perfectly capable of flying a blasted podship without killing anyone. My flight instructor at Andromeda—which is a very prestigious military academy in the Republic, I will have you know—”

“I know what Andromeda Academy is.”

“Yeah, well, my flight instructor said I was a natural.”

“Right,” Kai drawled. “Was that the same flight instructor who wrote in your official report about your inattentiveness, refusal to take safety precautions seriously, and overconfident attitude that often bordered on … what was the word she used? ‘Foolhardy,’ I think?”

“Oh, yeah. Commander Reid. She had a thing for me.” The radar blinked, picking up a cruiser in the far distance, and Thorne deftly changed directions to keep them out of its course. “I didn’t realize I had a royal stalker. I’m flattered, Your Majesty.”

“Even better—you had an entire government team assigned to digging up information on you. They reported twice daily for over a week. You did run off with the most-wanted criminal in the world, after all.”

“And your girlfriend.”

Kai smothered both a smile and a glare. “And my girlfriend,” he conceded.

“It took them a week, huh? Cress could have laid out my whole biography within hours.”

Kai pondered this. “Maybe I’ll offer her a job when this is all over.”

He expected it, and he wasn’t disappointed—the irritated twitch beneath Thorne’s eye. He hid it easily, though, his expression morphing into nonchalance. “Maybe you should.”

Kai shook his head and looked away. Earth filled up the viewing window, a kaleidoscope of ocean and land. He gripped his harness, knowing they were hurtling through space at terrifying speeds, yet feeling like he was suspended in time for one still, quiet moment.

He let his shoulders settle, awed by the sight. The next time he would be up here—if all went according to plan—he’d be on his way to Luna.

“You know what’s really strange to think about?” Kai said, as much to himself as to Thorne. “If Levana hadn’t tried to kill Cinder when she was a kid, I might be engaged to
her
right now. She would already be queen. We could be plotting an alliance together.”

“Yeah, but she would have been raised on Luna. And from what I can tell, being raised on Luna really messes people up. She wouldn’t be the cuddly cyborg we’ve all come to adore.”

“I know. I could have despised her as much as I despise Levana, though it’s difficult to imagine.”

Thorne nodded, and Kai was relieved he didn’t say something obnoxious as the podship slipped into a bank of clouds. The light around them began to bend and brighten as they entered the first layers of Earth’s atmosphere. The friction made the ship tremble and beads of water slicked back off the view window, but it wasn’t long before they’d broken through. The Pacific Ocean sparkled beneath them.

“I suppose this is all pretty weird for you too,” said Kai. “A wanted criminal, piloting a kidnapped political leader back to the country you first escaped from.”

Thorne snorted. “The weird part is I’m not getting any ransom money out of it. Although, if you’re feeling generous…”

“I’m not.”

Thorne scowled.

“Well, maybe a little. You’re set to serve time in three countries, right? The Commonwealth, America, and Australia?”

“Don’t remind me. One would think the whole unionization thing would mean we could have a little consistency in our judicial systems, but,
no
, you commit crimes in three different countries and everyone wants to help dole out the punishment.”

Kai pinched his lips, giving himself one last chance to reconsider. He’d only had the idea a few days ago, and his word would be gold once he said it aloud. He didn’t want to set an unfair precedent as his country’s leader, but at the same time—this felt
right.
And what was the point of being emperor if he couldn’t sometimes do something just because it felt right?

“I might come to regret this,” he said, dragging in a deep breath, “but, Carswell Thorne, I pardon all of your crimes against the Eastern Commonwealth.”

Thorne whipped his focus toward Kai. The podship surged forward and Kai gasped, grabbing hold of his harness.

“Whoops, sorry.” Thorne leveled the ship’s nose and resumed their steady flight. “That was a, uh … an air … doldrum. Thing. But you were saying?”

Kai exhaled. “I’m saying you can consider your time served, for the Commonwealth, at least. If we both survive this, when it’s all over, I’ll make it official. I can’t do anything about the other countries, though, other than put in a good word for you. And to be honest, they’ll probably think I’m crazy. Or suffering from Stockholm syndrome.”

“Oh, you are
definitely
suffering from Stockholm syndrome, but I won’t hold it against you. So—right. Great. Can I get this in writing?”

“No,” said Kai, watching the podship controls as Thorne had his attention pinned on him again. “And the deal is only valid if we
both survive.
”

“Mutual survival. Not a problem.” Grinning, Thorne checked their course and made a few adjustments to his flight instruments as Japan appeared on the horizon.

“Also, I have one condition. You have to return everything you stole.”

Thorne’s grin started to fizzle, but he locked his hands around the console and brightened again. “Dream dolls and some surplus uniforms? Done.”

“And?”

“And … and that’s pretty much it. Aces, you make it sound like I’m a kleptomaniac or something.”

Kai cleared his throat. “And the ship. You have to give back the ship.”

Thorne’s knuckles whitened. “But … she’s my ship.”

“No, she belongs to the American Republic. If you want a ship of your own, then you’re going to have to work for it and buy one like everybody else.”

“Hey, Mr. Born-into-Royalty, what do you know about it?” But Thorne’s defensiveness faded as quickly as it had come, ending in a grumpy sulk. “Besides, I did work for it. Thievery isn’t easy, you know.”

“You’re not really arguing with me about this, are you?”

Thorne clenched his eyes shut, and every muscle in Kai’s body tensed, but then Thorne sighed and opened them again. “You don’t get it. The Rampion and I have been through a lot together. I may have stolen her at first, but now it does feel like she belongs to me.”

“But she
doesn’t
belong to you. And you can’t expect the rest of your crew to want to stay on in a stolen ship.”

Thorne guffawed. “My crew? Let me tell you what’s going to become of my crew when this is over.” He ticked off on his fingers. “Cinder will be the ruling monarch of a big rock in the sky. Iko will go wherever Cinder goes, so let’s assume she becomes the queen’s hairdresser or something. You—are you a part of the crew now? Doesn’t matter, we both know where you’re going to end up. And once we get Scarlet back, she and Wolf are going to retire to some farm in France and have a litter of baby wolf cubs.
That’s
what’s going to become of my crew when this is done.”

“It sounds like you’ve put some thought into this.”

“Maybe,” said Thorne, with a one-shoulder shrug. “They’re the first crew I’ve ever had, and most of them even call me Captain. I’m going to miss them.”

Kai squinted. “I notice you left out Cress. What’s going on between you two, anyway?”

Thorne laughed. “What? Nothing’s going on. We’re … I mean, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know. She seems more comfortable around you than anybody else on the ship. I just thought…”

“Oh, no, there’s nothing like … we were in the desert together for a long time, but that’s it.” He ran his fingers absently over the podship controls but didn’t touch anything. “She used to have a crush on me. Actually”—he chuckled again, but it was more strained this time—“she thought she was in love with me when we first met. Funny, right?”

Kai watched him from the corner of his eye. “Hilarious.”

Thorne’s knuckles whitened on the controls, then he glanced at Kai and started to shake his head. “What is this, a therapy session? It doesn’t matter.”

“It sort of matters. I like Cress.” Kai shifted in the harness. “I like you too, despite my better judgment.”

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that.”

“Something tells me Cress might still like you too—against
her
better judgment.”

Thorne sighed. “Yeah, that pretty much sums that up.”

Kai cocked his head. “How so?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Oh, it’s
complicated.
Because I have no idea what that’s like.” Kai snorted.