Polaris Rising (Consortium Rebellion, #1)(16)



I heard him rooting through a container. I checked on our navigation. We were six hours out. I would love to get some sleep, but I wasn’t sure if it was prudent or possible.

“I’m going to shower,” Loch said.

The door to the bathroom hissed open then closed. When I didn’t hear anything else for a few seconds, I risked a peek. The room was empty. I sighed out some of my anxiety.

With Loch contained, I used the time to stand up and look around. My knowledge of this ship was minimal because none of my training had included a scenario where I’d be on one. The bridge and the main room of the ship were basically the same. The back of the room had a tiny bathroom tucked in the port corner, a short hall connected to the exit, and the hatch to the lower engine level.

Each side of the room had two columns of fold-down cots mounted to the walls. The cots were stacked three high, so there was room for twelve people to sleep. When they were all folded down, a narrow aisle down the middle of the room would lead from the bridge to the back of the ship.

With the cots folded up, a bench ran the length of both sides of the room. Harness points were embedded in the underside of the lowest cots, so the survivors could be strapped in for takeoff or landing. The black harness straps stood out against the gray of the rest of the room.

After two years on bland gray stations and ships, I missed the blue and cream walls of my old bedroom. One of these days I was going to have to decide on a planet and settle down and stay put, if only so I could paint my rooms something other than metallic gray. I hadn’t tried it yet because in order to completely disappear, I’d have to cut all ties to my family, including my sisters. That wasn’t a step I was quite ready to take.

I was so caught up in my dreams of family and colorful walls that I missed the bathroom door opening. Movement in my peripheral vision jolted me out of my thoughts. I spun around then froze.

Loch had shaved the stubble from both his face and his head. The newly revealed skin highlighted a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and full lips. His black shirt clung to his broad shoulders and clearly outlined the flat planes of his chest. He narrowed at the waist, but still the shirt clung tenaciously, hinting at the defined abs underneath.

I loved that shirt.

His legs were encased in standard-issue merc fatigues in dark gray camouflage, and he’d found a pair of black boots. He’d looked dangerous before, but now he looked deadly. It took all of my training not to flinch and back away when he approached.

“Your turn, darling,” he said. “There are extra clothes in the locker.” He jerked a thumb at the vertical storage locker across from the bathroom, then gave me a once-over. “Though I don’t know if there’ll be anything that fits.”

I was tall and slender, though I liked to think of myself as lithe rather than gangly. I had a fair bit of muscle, but nothing compared to most mercs.

“Thanks,” I said. “And my name is Ada.”

Loch crowded into my personal space, but I steeled my spine and refused to give ground. His slow smile did all sorts of terrible things to me. “I know your name, Ada,” he murmured. It was the first time he’d said my name without the derisive, mocking lilt, and it was far more devastating than I’d imagined.

I suppressed my reaction and smoothly stepped around him. “Excellent,” I said. Dodging handsy lordlings without giving offense—or getting groped—had made me something of an expert at extracting myself from these situations. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten,” I tossed over my shoulder.

When the expected response didn’t come, I glanced back at him. He stared at me with intense focus. The look made me want to freeze and hide, but I continued on to the storage locker. I couldn’t afford to let him know just how much he was affecting me. One hint of weakness and he’d pounce.

I dug through the locker and luckily came up with a set of men’s clothes that would fit. I also grabbed a rucksack for my old clothes, since they were the only other set I had. I could do laundry once we landed.

I could feel eyes on me, but I refused to glance his way. I stepped into the bathroom and locked the door. I slumped against the tiny counter. Excess adrenaline made me shaky. I took deep breaths and listened for movement. I heard nothing but the constant low hum of the engines.

Loch could easily breach the door. Even if he couldn’t just unlock it with the ship’s system, which he could, he could probably knock it down. It was a flimsy illusion of safety, but one I clung to.

I wanted a shower, dammit.

I undressed quickly. I had blood smears around both wrists where Loch had grabbed me out of the access tunnel, and my left arm was bruised. My nanos would be hard at work repairing the damage, but it remained tender to the touch.

Nanobots were so expensive because they were crafted specifically for each individual’s DNA. Cheaper generic versions had been tried, but since the infinitesimal robots circulated in the bloodstream, the body often saw them as foreign invaders and attacked. The results were not pretty.

The nanobots were supposed to be good for life, but I’d gotten boosters every year with the latest and greatest new versions. When I left home, the boosters stopped. I couldn’t afford them on my own, so now my nanos were two years out of date. I hadn’t noticed any side effects, but it made me a little paranoid. One often didn’t notice the silver spoon until it was removed.

I unbraided my dark hair and ran my fingers through it. My hair hit just below my shoulder blades and was wavy enough to have a mind of its own. It had been longer when I lived at home. Cutting it had hurt, but long hair was more of a liability than an asset when you lived on stations and ships.

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