Heart of Iron (Heart of Iron #1)(24)
Oh—oh no.
She quickly looked around the cramped cockpit for Robb, but he had disappeared. Had he even followed the crew here? She couldn’t remember.
“Ak’va,” Jax cursed under his breath. “He said his last name was Aragon.”
Siege’s eyes darkened. “Aragon my ass.”
The Grand Duchess went on. “This is an act of terror, and it is war against our kingdom. I will award five hundred thousand coppers to whoever returns Robbert Mercer Valerio unharmed.”
Ana could see the thoughtful looks on everyone’s faces at the idea of half a million coppers. That was three new sails for the Dossier. An updated solar core. A quiet house on Eros. A new life.
“And to whoever brings in the rogue Metal assassin and its accomplice, I will reward you whatever you desire.”
“Whatever we desire?” Barger murmured. “We could get our records wiped clean.”
“I’d space you first,” Talle warned, her words as sharp as the knives on her belt.
“There is no price too great for the safety of this kingdom and the security of its people. We will not bargain with terror. May the stars keep you steady and the iron keep you safe.”
The connection flickered and faded to stars. Ana counted the silence—one heartbeat, two, before the fiber optics flared in her captain’s hair like an inferno. But as Siege opened her mouth, green eyes full of murder, Jax dashed out of the cockpit and slammed the door closed, locking them inside.
Jax
Jax was, by all accounts, the most merciful crew member on the Dossier.
He also had a promise to uphold to that charming, lying sack of spacetrash who happened to be from the most hated family in the entire kingdom. He tried to forget the solidness of Robb’s chest as they free-fell through Nevaeh, the warmth of the Ironblood’s hands over his as they pulled the skysailer into flight, and the color of his eyes, a blue that reminded Jax of summer rain on Iliad.
Or that the Ironblood, for no particular reason, smelled like mint and honey.
He would not be swayed by a pretty boy.
The Ironblood had lied. Jax wasn’t sure what he would do once he caught the boy, because everything sounded appealing at the moment. Strangling. Shaking. Dismantling him limb from limb—slowly, to enjoy the moment.
After all, he was the most merciful of the crew members.
But when he found Robb trying to hot-wire the skysailer in the cargo bay—and failing—he quickly realized the most he could do was kick the poor boy’s charming ass.
“The battery’s shorted out, little lord,” he said, surprising the Ironblood in the cockpit. “And we’re far past Iliad’s waystation already. You wouldn’t make it even on the Goddess’s good graces.”
Robb gave a start—and grabbed for something under the dash—his lightsword—and drew it, stumbling out of the cockpit. The weapon glowed between them like a slice of sunlight, emitting a soft hum. They always looked a good deal prettier than they felt. Superheated, they could slice through anything like a knife through butter.
Jax raised an eyebrow. “My, what a shiny hello you have there. Found where we hid it, did you?”
“Let me leave—or I’ll skewer you.”
“Haven’t you already tried once? Although with a smaller utensil,” he added jokingly, but when the Ironblood didn’t falter, Jax pocketed his hands with a sigh. “Go on then, Valerio. Solani bleed like the rest of you. Skewer me. I’d make a pretty shish kebab.”
“Don’t think I won’t do it.”
“I know you will.”
Sweat prickled on the Ironblood’s brow. With the wound in his side, the poor boy could barely stand for long, let alone fight. But he knew how to handle a sword, at least—lightly on the handle, loose like an extension of his arm. He knew to look at his opponent and not the tip of his own sword; he knew the fighting stance, turning sideways to be as small a target as possible. He must’ve been quite a lovely outcast at the Academy. All frills and sweet cologne and a bleeding heart on his sleeve.
“Why are you running?” Jax asked. “Scared that we’ll kill you for being a Valerio?”
Robb tightened his grip on his sword.
“Or,” Jay drawled, “are you afraid we will turn you in? Half a mil coppers is a very pretty picture.”
“Goddess be damned you will,” the boy snapped. “I’m not going back.”
“We could just kill you—”
“Says the one at sword point.”
“—but I have a feeling you’d be messy.”
“Then let me go.”
“Or—now hear me out.” Jax tested his courage and took another step, eyeing the lightsword. “Or you stay here, and we work this out like civilized gentlemen.”
“Civilized?” the Ironblood scoffed. “You must be kidding me.”
“We’re perfectly civil, thank you. I’m not the one holding an innocent man at sword point, now am I? But oh, woe, we’re so uncivilized.”
Robb set his jaw. “You mock me.”
“Only because you’re being insufferable.”
“Goddess, why can’t you just let me—”
Jax heard the dedicated whir of E0S coming down into the cargo bay—probably to check on the solar engine. It did its rounds every hour, but the time must have slipped his mind. He had to act quickly, or else that bot would go straight to the captain like the dutiful little tech it was and unlock that cockpit faster than a jewel thief out of a Cercian mine.