Starflight (Starflight, #1)(26)

“Then she’s more stupid than I thought,” Miss DePaul said. “To aid a fugitive when she’s already got a record.”

Solara’s eyebrows jumped in perfect synch with Doran’s.

“To aid a what?” he asked.

“Dory, you know I love you, but I can’t get involved.” His girlfriend twisted a pink lock around her finger. “You understand, right?”

Doran nodded absently while his cheeks turned waxy. Solara waved to get his attention and mouthed Fugitive? at him, but he stared right through her.

“Is this a secure line?” he asked.

“Totally,” Miss DePaul promised. “And I won’t tell anyone you called.”

“Yes, please don’t. What happened after I left?”

“They’re still trying to extradite you for all those indictments on Earth,” Ava whispered. “When you took off, they started tracking all the ships that—”

The transmission ended with their prepaid minute.

While Doran groaned and cradled his head between both hands, Solara processed what her ears were trying to tell her…which she still couldn’t believe. Doran was a fugitive from justice? Doran Spaulding—Mister unlike you, I’m not a lowly convict—had broken the law?

“What did you do?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” he whispered. “I swear.”

“Sure. That’s what they all say.”

She remembered how the outpost intercom had repeated, Passenger Spaulding, return to your ship. The Enforcers weren’t worried about the heir to the Spaulding throne. They were trying to extradite him. And she’d helped him escape.

“The ship that chased us last night,” Solara realized, her stomach sinking. “They were after you, not me.” Which didn’t really matter. Because if the law caught up with them, everyone on board the Banshee would rot in a lifer colony. “And you just told your girlfriend where we are.”

The booth seemed to shrink around her, and for once she understood how Doran felt about closets. She jerked open the door and stumbled outside, blinking against the sunshine while she turned in a clumsy circle. “We have to go,” she said. She didn’t know where the nearest Enforcer patrol was stationed, or how long it would take it to reach Pesirus, but the clock was already ticking. “What do we tell the crew?”

“Nothing,” Doran replied from behind. He stepped out of the booth, looking calmer than any fugitive had a right to be. “They can’t find out who I am.”

“We’re supposed to spend the whole day here,” she reminded him. “How do we convince them to leave?”

“Easy. I’ll lie.” He nodded at the booth. “I just got word that my grandmother’s dying, and I have to rush to the nearest outpost for an Earthbound ship. We’re paid passengers. You heard the captain; business comes first.”

“But you can’t go to that outpost anymore,” she said. “Your girlfriend knows—”

“Yes, I can.” Doran brushed past her and strode back the way they’d come. “Because she won’t tell.”

“Oh, please.” Solara chased after him and tugged his sleeve. “That airhead’s already folding like a deck of cards. I’d put money on…” She trailed off when a streak of movement in the background flashed between two vendor tents. When she peered between the next gap, she noticed a set of familiar dreadlocks flapping in the breeze behind their owners, who were sprinting toward the Banshee’s shuttle like the devil was on their heels.

“Cassia and Kane,” Solara said, pointing. “Something’s wrong.”

She and Doran jogged in that direction, then increased their speed to a full-on bolt when they saw the shuttle doors open and Kane hurtle himself into the pilot’s seat. At once, the engines hummed, sending a blast of warm air over them.

“Wait!” Solara screamed while waving one arm.

Cassia made eye contact just before leaping into the passenger’s seat. After darting a glance in the opposite direction, she made a hurry up motion and pointed at the rear hatch, which had begun a slow rise. Solara pumped her legs harder and faster while fear chilled her skin.

What were they running from?

The hatch was fully raised when she reached it, exposing a narrow cargo area behind the two front seats. Without slowing, she launched her body onto the floor and braced for Doran’s impact. He landed half on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs, and then the shuttle rose sharply while the rear hatch was still open.

“Grab on to something,” Kane shouted as he veered the craft hard to the left.

Solara gripped the back of the passenger’s seat with one hand and hooked the other around Doran’s waist. He wrapped a leg around both of hers, and together they held on for dear life while the hatch gradually closed.

“Attention, Captain,” Cassia called through the com-link. “We’re coming in hot. The Daeva are here. I spotted them on foot, but their ship is probably nearby.” Her voice cracked, and she repeated, “The Daeva are here. Do you copy?”

She pronounced it day-vuh, a word Solara had never heard before.

The captain responded with a curse, and the noise of the ship’s engines roared to life in the background. “Don’t bother landing,” he ordered. “I’ll meet you halfway. Use the tow cables to dock. With any luck, we’ll be long gone before they’re airborne.”