Page 15 of Black Star
Chapter Five
Damon groaned. Phoebe squealed and would have jumped away from him had Damon not held her fast. How many more ways could he look like an idiot? He snatched at the cover to shield Phoebe from the eyes of his unwanted guests.
“What the holy fuck are you doing, Viktor?” Mortified didn’t begin to describe Damon’s feelings right now.
“We heard a disturbance. It sounded like you were in trouble.”
Ranier -- the Black Star ’s pilot and a man Damon liked and respected above anyone else in his crew -- snickered. “Oh, he was in trouble all right. It sounded like he blew his tonsils out his --”
“That’s enough!” Damon knew his face was as red as a Tamarian Blood Ruby. “If I need help, I’ll ask for it.”
“What exactly would you like us to wait for?” Viktor crossed massive arms over an equally massive chest. “We could hear your screams from the corridor.”
“We’re aboard the Black Star , Viktor! Nothing can happen to me here.” Why wouldn’t they just leave ?
Ranier’s continued amusement grated on Damon’s nerves. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think it was possible to pick up a stowaway either. Yet, here she is.” Ranier winked at Phoebe. If he hadn’t been butt naked, Damon would have crossed the room and cheerfully punched the man. “My apologies, miss. I sincerely hope you won’t hold such a barbaric intrusion against me and withhold my rations. My friend, on the other hand --” he nodded toward Viktor, “-- doesn’t need his rations anyway. Keep me in mind if you have extra, will you?”
The soft, muffled giggling next to him drew his attention. Phoebe had the sheet pulled up to her nose -- her enormous silvery-green eyes and mass of silver-white hair were all that was visible. Damon rolled his eyes. Why was he the only one so acutely embarrassed?
Viktor turned to leave. “ Black Star should reactivate your security protocol once we leave. And just so you know, the ship is as amused as the rest of us.”
“Just because you’ve managed a tentative link with the ship doesn’t mean you can stand there and make fun of me and Phoebe.”
Viktor whipped around and raised a hand against further protest. “No, my link with the Black Star doesn’t give me the right to have a chuckle at your expense -- being your friend does. As to the young Miss Phoebe, if such a beautiful, passionate woman were mine, I would love her as thoroughly as you just did. I’d hold nothing back.”
The man hardly ever spoke more than a couple of sentences at a time. The mere fact Viktor considered himself Damon’s friend shocked, but also flattered, Damon. The big vampire wasn’t anyone’s friend.
Viktor slowly turned and left the room. As soon as he did, Phoebe burst out into gales of laughter. Did everyone on the entire bloody ship -- including the bloody ship -- need to have a good laugh at his expense?
When Phoebe’s arms snaked around his neck, and she kissed his shoulder in between giggles, the humor of the situation finally hit him. He could only imagine the look on his face when Viktor and Ranier had come rushing in on them.
“Oh my, but I don’t see how any of them kept a straight face.” Phoebe wiped tears from her eyes and pulled Damon back down on top of her. “I never thought I’d find humor in that kind of an entrance, considering what it would have meant in another lifetime, but I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.”
Looking down at the smiling woman with laughter in her eyes as bright as the tears, it struck Damon exactly how deep he was in. Up to his eyeballs.
Damon Singh was head over heels in love with Phoebe Lightheart.
* * *
Phoebe finished cleaning up after the morning meal. The men had scarfed down everything she’d fixed. There wasn’t even a drop of gravy left. More, one of the younger men had insisted he help her with the dishes. The work had been done in half the time and she’d finished preparing for the midday meal early enough to explore a bit.
Her new home was wonderfully spacious, if a bit plain. The floors were covered by a thin padded runner down the center, and computer linkups were the only thing that marred the smooth surface of the metal walls. Even the doors didn’t break the continuity. The only entryways she found that did break the illusion of a never-ending hallway were the captain’s, the one leading to the engineering section, and the one leading to the command section. Command was a very formidable place to be if you didn’t know your way around.
She wondered again how she’d managed to end up where she had. She could just as easily have wandered into the detention area and gotten herself locked up. Still, she rather liked it here. It was clean. Almost painfully so.
At the moment, however, something was wrong. She wasn’t well versed in navigation, but she could have sworn they were going in the wrong direction. More than all that, though, the place was empty. There were no sounds other than the normal mechanical sounds everything made when not planet side. No one was in the recreation area, or the mess hall. The one person she did see was in a big hurry and looked a bit strained. He didn’t even acknowledge her as he passed. Strange.
Phoebe turned to head back to the kitchen when the ship gave a tremendous lurch. Claxons blared, and the ship continued to shudder for several minutes. Phoebe stumbled to her feet. Staggering down the corridor, she finally made it to the mess hall where she ducked under a table and braced herself. There wasn’t much in the area to fall, but if anything did, she didn’t like the idea of it falling on her head.
Used to a space station that made a continuous orbit around a dead planet, Phoebe felt every move the Black Star made. They pitched from side to side, up and down, every movement quick and precise. Phoebe had the sinking suspicion they were avoiding something, dodging a battle.
“Phoebe.”
The mechanical, but ultra-feminine voice coming from the comm startled Phoebe so badly, she bumped her head on the table. Stars danced in front of her eyes and she had to shake her head to clear it.
“Phoebe, can you make it to Damon’s quarters?”
“Who said that?”
“There’s no time to explain. You need to go to the captain’s quarters and lock yourself in until either he or I tell you it’s safe.”
“What’s going on?” Phoebe knew this conversation was real and not the result of head trauma only because the voice had precipitated her head trauma to begin with.
“Don’t be difficult! Just do as you’re told before you’re taken!”
An explosion rocked the ship this time. There was a sound suspiciously like that of a hull breach. Phoebe had heard it only once. Three women on Graves Station lost their lives that time. “Was that a hull breach?”
“Yes! Get to Damon’s quarters and hurry. We’re being boarded!”
Phoebe didn’t waste any more time contemplating the wheres and whys of the disembodied voice. Things were happening fast, and she very much didn’t want to get caught in the middle of them.
She ran down the hall, colliding with two crewmembers wearing the remnants of tattered space suits -- Toshie and Brenner. Toshie looked like half his face had been burned off, and Brenner was half carrying, half dragging him toward the medical unit.
Phoebe immediately grabbed Toshie’s other arm and put it over her shoulder. “What happened?”
“We were ambushed.” Brenner grunted as he shifted Toshie’s weight to allow for Phoebe’s assistance. “Damned cultists waited until we had everyone on board here or Sword Breaker , then attacked.”
Phoebe was betting they were after not only their “stolen” people, but the Black Star herself for salvage. It was how they made their “fleet.” They captured the ship that had the parts they wanted and incorporated the technology into whatever vessel they needed it on. As a result, no two ships of the Hand were alike, and that made it difficult for anyone to identify a lone ship as belonging to the Hand.
“Captain Singh is trying to fight them off, but he’s going to need the vampire’s help.” Brenner said that like asking a vampire for help was worse than being taken by the Hand.
“The vampire. Viktor?”
“Hell, yes, Viktor! If the captain lets that man loose, blood will flow like a river. Not only that, but it will be hard to get him back under control.”
Brenner carefully lifted Toshie and laid him on an exam table. The doctor, whom Phoebe had met only briefly at the last meal, examined Toshie carefully. “Leave him to me. I’ll start the grafts and see if I can stop the burn’s progression. If I don’t, he won’t be fit for anything other than cybernetic recycling.”
With nothing more to do, Phoebe and Brenner left the unit. Brenner scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked worried, and scared.
“I’m sure the doctor will help him, Brenner. What happened?”
“Plasma burn. He got caught in the flash fire when the bulkhead gave way.”
A sickening feeling washed over Phoebe. “Damon?” she whispered. “Is Captain Singh all right?”
“He was burned, but not badly. Thank the stars he and most of the others managed to get atmospheric suits on before the inner bulkhead failed. Right now, they’re fighting those thrice-damned fanatics. With that section of the hull exposed, it’s not easy.” The young man looked nervously back the way he came. “I’ve got to go. The captain will need all the help he can get. Excuse me, ma’am.”
Phoebe thought she might be sick. Damon needed her, but if she was captured, she was as good as dead. She started back to the cabin, but stopped after a couple of steps. No. If Damon lost, they’d find her wherever she was. If it was meant for her to die, it would be at Damon’s side.