Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle #1)(54)

Don’t get me wrong—given the chance, I’d cheerfully jump aboard either of the Jones twins, but moments like this, it’s hard to take my eyes off her. Flaming-red lipstick to match her flaming bob, the same fiery color shaded around those big blue eyes of hers. What Dariel’s serving up is clearly an attempt to impress—delicacies from our homeworld are hard to come by—and recognizing the gesture is the best thing she could possibly do right now.

I grab one, too, just in case Dariel forgets to offer the box in my direction. The flaky pastry dissolves on my tongue, the slightly sweet, slightly sour ground luka nuts inside flooding my mouth with flavor. These things taste like home. But if I’m not careful, they’re going to taste like homesickness instead. Like safety, and the longing to get the hells out of this situation. I swallow quickly.

Scarlett’s nibbling slower, more appreciative. “I like a man who knows how to get what he wants. You must know this place inside and out.”

Dariel puffs up, predictably. “I’ve been around.”

“I’ll bet.” She winks. “Anything you can teach me?”

He drifts closer, like oily smoke. “There’s a lot I can teach you, Earth girl.”

Scarlett only smiles wider. “I mean about this station. For now, at least. Nothing like a local to show you the ropes.”

“What do you want to know?”

She shrugs, her eyes sparkling. “Anything you want to tell us.”

Dariel glances at me, then leans in closer to Miss Jones.

“Well, first off, you can’t just think of this place as a big city,” he says, with what he clearly believes is an air of suave authority. “You gotta think of it more like a hundred different cities that just happen to border each other, right? There are probably a million souls aboard. We got governing councils and lawless zones, warlords and high society and rumors about black sectors in the depths. You can find anything for the right price. We got fancy art, we got weaponry, we got delights that’ll take you away from your troubles. If you were, say, looking for a place to go dancing in those fine new clothes …”

I can’t even tell if he’s being sleazy or just doesn’t have any social skills—and when I’m noticing your lack of grace, you really oughta take a good, hard look at yourself. But Scarlett just shrugs in an elegant maybe kind of way.

“It was a long ride here, handsome.” She stretches, and lifts one hand to muffle a yawn. “What I’m really looking for is a place where we can sleep?”

Dariel blinks. “You mean … you and me, or …”

“I mean me and them.” Scarlett smiles, gesturing at the rest of us.

“Wait, all of you are—”

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking about it too much,” I growl.

My cousin takes a few moment to try and wrap his brain cell around it, but eventually he just gives up and leads us through to a back room. It’s not decorated—the walls are standard issue, the ceiling bare. There’s one flic vine up the far end of the room, but the leaves are barely glowing. The places has got three bunks, one atop the other, the lower two mostly full of cans of luminescent white paint and freeze-dried sarbo oil pods. I don’t ask. I can only assume he got a good deal.

“This is perfect,” Scarlett says. “Thanks, handsome.”

“No problem.” Dariel smiles. “If you want any more compa—”

The rest of his offer fades out as Scarlett winks and slides the door closed, finally giving us a little privacy. I dunno what it is about this girl, but she pulls it off without offending him—she could probably slap you in the face and make you feel good about it afterward. The others set to work clearing a place to sleep—the taller among us could touch both sides of this room with our hands held out to each side. Tyler’s making room on the bunks, Kal is piling the junk around the place into perfect stacks. But Scarlett hangs back by the door with me, out of the way.

“Do you need a hand?” she asks softly.

She’s talking quiet so the others won’t hear. Gesturing at my suit. I thought I kept my movements pretty smooth since we came aboard, but truth told, my muscles are aching—they don’t love being flooded with adrenaline over and over. And though I’m usually the first to bite when people point the thing out, somehow she makes it so I don’t mind. There’s no sympathy, no gentle grimace. Just a casual offer.

Truth is I’d kill for even a few hours in low gravity—I could get my suit off, curl up to sleep properly—but making that happen would mean leaving the squad. And adding another favor to the list I’m racking up with Dariel.

I was meant to have low-gee accommodations aboard the Longbow, once my squad was assigned. I had my own room at the academy so I could reduce gravity every night and operate without the suit. I’m gonna pay a price for sleeping like this later. But I’ll worry about that tomorrow. For now, I’m really not taking a hand from anyone with my next shower.

“Thanks, I’m fine,” I say. “It’s designed to stay on for several days if needs be.”

Scarlett nods, content that I’m content.

“You think we can trust your cousin?” she whispers. “My gut was yes.”

I nod. “Your family seals your den, that’s what my clan says.”