Starfall (Starflight #2)(68)

“That’s all you’re asking?”

“At least promise you’ll think about it.”

She hesitated. It felt like he’d dropped a boulder in her lap.

“I only pester because I care,” he added. Then he went quiet for a few beats, and when he spoke again, he seemed to have gone misty. “I don’t know if Belle and I will ever have children, or if we missed the boat on that. But if I had a daughter, I’d want her to be like you.”

His words triggered her tear ducts, because in a secret place deep inside, buried beneath years of pain and abuse, existed the ghost of a little girl who wanted to make her parents proud. That girl had nearly starved from neglect, but now she beamed to know that someone as wonderful as Renny would want her for a child.

Cassia dabbed at her eyes. “You know how to twist a girl’s arm.”

“They say I’m a pretty slick thief, too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out her com-bracelet. “By the way, I took this from the washroom.”

“You win,” she said, and let him slip the bracelet over her hand. “I promise I’ll think about it.” She peered through a wall of tears at her captain: his long, gangly limbs; boyish hair six months overdue for a trim; glasses held together with medical tape. She was going to miss him something fierce. “And for what it’s worth, I hope you haven’t missed the boat. Any child would be lucky to have you for a father. That would be the cosmic jackpot.”



Doran groaned and slumped against an empty pallet. “I never want to smell fish again.”

“Again?” asked Solara. “I still smell it.”

He scrubbed a hand over his nose. “Yeah, me too. It’s like revenge of the tuna.” He elbowed Kane. “Am I right?”

“Uh-huh,” Kane said, only half listening. “Tuna.” He gazed across a grassy field at the Banshee’s boarding ramp, which hadn’t seen a boot in the hour since the neurologist had strolled onto the ship.

“Hey,” Doran called.

Kane glanced at him.

“I don’t think she’s coming, man.”

Neither did Kane, and that was what scared him. Cassia didn’t just love hellberry wine; she lived for it. She must really hate his face if she would rather hide in her quarters than enjoy a mug served fresh from the barrel.

“I’ll buy a bottle for her,” he said, but then he wondered if she would drink it if she knew the wine was a gift from him. She might pour the whole bottle straight down the commode. “We’ll tell her it’s from you.”

Solara looped an arm around his and led the way toward a small market beyond the warehouse. “How about this? You’ll buy a bottle for her and save it until you two make up. Then you’ll uncork it and celebrate.”

“And end up naked on someone’s lawn,” Doran added from behind.

Kane chuckled. It felt good to laugh. “First I’ll have to convince her to look at me.”

“Maybe it’ll take a while.” Solara shrugged. “Wine gets better with age, right?”

“That’s right,” Doran agreed, and delivered an encouraging punch to Kane’s shoulder. “She’ll come around. Just unleash a dollop of that greasy charm of yours. You two’ll be bickering again in no time.”

They were halfway to the winery booth when their com-links crackled with static and Cassia’s frantic voice called, “Kane!”

He whipped his head toward the Banshee and saw the neurologist running—not walking, but actually running—down the boarding ramp. Before the man had even touched the ground, the ship’s engines roared alive.

“We have to leave right now,” Cassia told him.

He was already sprinting her way with Doran and Solara right behind him. “Copy that,” he panted through the link. He passed the doctor and kept going without a backward glance. As soon as they crossed into the cargo hold, Kane retracted the boarding ramp and said, “Tell Renny he’s clear for liftoff.”

The words had barely left his lips when a sharp upward acceleration buckled his knees, and he landed on the floor. From there, he half walked, half crawled up the stairs until he found Cassia waiting for him in the galley. One look at her and he knew their personal problems would take a backseat to this emergency.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s Fleece. We know how he’s finding us and listening to our conversations.”

She waved him up the stairs to the residential level, where they waited for Doran and Solara to catch up. Once they were together, she led the crew toward Arabelle’s quarters and stopped outside her door. “She has a neuro-ocular implant,” Cassia whispered. “The doctor said it’s an old prototype that never made it to market because of brain damage. It collects everything Belle sees and hears, and transmits the data to an outside source.”

“My god,” Solara breathed. “Fleece has eyes and ears right on board the ship.”

Kane glanced at Arabelle’s door. “Did she know?”

Cassia shook her head. “The implant only holds so much data before it has to be purged. Each time Fleece reset it, he erased those memories. That’s why she was confused about how long she’s been with him. She lost more than a year’s worth of awareness.”