Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(39)

I am aflame in the sweet and urgent softness of her mouth, the sharp press of her teeth as she nips my lip, her fingertips weaving into my braids. Her touch is maddening, there is so much weight to it for one of my people, so much promise behind it, and there is nothing to me—nothing at all—save the feel of her in my arms and the single word that burns like a first sunrise behind my eyes.

More.

I must have more.

The impact knocks us sideways, an alarm blaring across the Zero’s docking bay as emergency lights begin to flash. We break apart, Aurora’s lips bee-stung and parted, the taste of her blood still on my mouth. The deck shudders beneath us.

“You two okay in there?” Tyler asks over comms.

I look into Aurora’s eyes, and her smile is the only heaven I have ever known.

“We’re perfect,” she whispers.

“Well, not to rush you, but I could use my combat expert up here!”

I blink hard to clear my head, willing myself to breathe.

“On our way, sir.”

Aurora climbs off me and I glide upward, pulling her with me. I want nothing more than to linger here. To sink slowly into the unspoken promise behind that kiss. But the danger is bright as the fire she lights inside me. And so I take her hand and we run together, limping and bloodied, down the main corridor to the bridge.

Scarlett looks up from her console and winks.

“Nice flying, Muscles.”

“What is our status?” I say, sliding into my station.

“One of the cruisers has sustained critical damage from the Hadfield debris field,” Zila reports. “Ten fighters and the second cruiser still in pursuit.”

“They’re sending an SOS,” Finian reports. “Our ship ident and vid footage.”

“They think we’re pirates!” Tyler shouts, leaning hard on his controls as we weave through the surrounding convoy. “Can you jam their transmission?”

Fin shakes his head. “They sent it before I got aboard. I’m not a miracle worker, Goldenboy!”

“Anyone who was monitoring us when we blasted out of Emerald City is going to know we’re on this ship!” Scarlett yells over the alarms. “TDF. GIA. Our fellow legionnaires. Bounty hunters. This sector is going to be hotter than my unmentionables when the navy hits town!”

“Thank you, Scarlett, I don’t need a status report on your underwear right now!” Tyler roars.

“I mean, I could hear a little more?” Fin says.

Aurora’s uniglass beeps in her pocket. “THE FIRST RECORD OF HUMAN UNDERGARMENTS WAS THE LOINCLOTH, A SIMPLE GARMENT COMMONLY WORN IN—”

“Silent mode!” Tyler shouts.

Tracer fire rips through the dark around us. I let loose a burst from our rear railguns and am rewarded with a flare of bright fire and a soundless explosion. The fighters return fire, but the Zero’s flakscreen and interceptors are state of the art, and we are still ahead of the pack for now. Tyler is not the ace that Zero was, but he is still an impressive pilot, sending us soaring over the vast gunmetal expanses of the derelicts around us, weaving between the broken ships like a dancer.

“Undies aside,” Scarlett says, “I’d like to keep my ass in my pants if at all possible. We should get out of here before real trouble arrives.”

“We still need the black box,” I point out. “If we retreat now, we will not have another chance to approach the convoy.”

“We do not know where the black box is,” Zila points out.

“Like I said, they probably just stowed it on the lead tug,” Finian says.

“Well, bad news, they’re not slowing down for us to stop and check!” Tyler shouts. “And we don’t have long till these goons aren’t the only ones shooting at us!”

Alarms scream as a volley of missiles bursts below us, carving black swaths across a derelict’s skin. My pulse is pounding, electricity crackling at my fingertips, a fierce and burning elation welling within me—both at the memory of Aurora’s kiss and at the thrill of battle around me.

I feel invincible.

Unbreakable.

“I can retrieve it,” I hear myself say.

Scarlett blinks at me, flame-red hair framing disbelieving eyes. “Are you high?”

“Kal … ,” Aurora says.

I am looking at my Alpha, still bent over his controls.

“We need that data, sir,” I tell him. “If we miss our chance here, the convoy will be doubly guarded. And in less than twenty-four hours, they will have docked. This is our moment. Get me close to that lead tug. I will do the rest.”

Tyler tears his eyes off his displays, meeting mine.

“Believe, Brother,” I say.

He clenches his jaw, but nods.

“I’ll get us close as I can.”

I am on my feet already, my blood alight. I am retrieving a disruptor rifle and a blister of thermex charges from the weapons locker when Fin pushes himself upright with a sigh.

“Where are you going?” Scarlett asks.

“With him.”

“Seriously, is there a CO2 leak in here or something?” she says, looking between us. “Or did we all come down with a case of boneheaded heroics when I wasn’t looking?”

“I’m the Gearhead in this squad.” Fin shrugs, checks his suit integrity. “Pixieboy wouldn’t know a black box if it fell out of the sky, landed on his face, and started to wiggle.”