Page 18 of Tempting Jupiter (Arena Dogs #2)

They’d made it to the top level and headed toward the pilot’s station.

Seneca followed close behind, ears alert. His gaze met hers over Jupiter’s shoulder. “So, what does all this mean for us?”

“That,” she admitted, “remains to be seen.”

“Where?” Jupiter stood in the middle of the scorch-marked space, waiting for her guidance.

“The pilot’s console.” Fee saw that the top half of the chair was missing. Some of the charred material melted into the seat had probably once been a part of the pilot. The thought did nothing to relieve the nausea brewing in her stomach. Too many damn meds.

Jupiter set her on her feet and steadied her until she found her balance.

Back straight, teeth gritted, she brushed the debris off the surface of the wide stretch of the pilot’s interface.

The rubble fell to the floor in a discordant percussion that sent a new round of stench into the air.

She found the sensor station intact, but the display was dark.

Resting one hand on the edge of the console for stability, she leaned over and put her palm against the inactive display.

It came to glowing life. “I think I forgot how slow it can be to interface this way.” She would have gone for Bug if she thought she could actually make it across the deck and back, but that wasn’t happening.

The arm she was using to prop herself up was her injured one and the muscles were already starting to shake.

She scrolled through the readings with the tips of her fingers. “Some of the external sensors are down, but there are enough of them active to confirm the Salley Ho isn’t out there anymore.”

Her arm collapsed on her suddenly. The inevitable impact with the console never came. A strong arm wrapped around her hips. “I’ve got you.”

Jupiter. Strength and warmth radiated from his body to hers. She put her injured arm over his. “Can you get to that?” She pointed to the square pressure pad she could no longer reach.

He bent over, stretching and that shift pressed him more firmly against her back like a blanket of solid muscle wrapped around her.

“Press down,” she instructed.

He did and the metal alloy wall in front of them hummed to life. Tiny droplets of charged silica appeared across it, like dew clinging to leaves. It spread to a thin layer then the colors changed to form the external view display.

Jupiter straightened suddenly. Seneca strode quickly to his side.

“Neat, huh? I remember the first time I saw one of these,” she teased. “I thought it looked like the hull was melting away and that we’d go flying out into space.”

“If that were the case, we would have felt a change in air pressure,” Jupiter said, voice flat.

She met his eyes over her good shoulder. His face showed no hint of emotion, but that fact spoke volumes. He was being brave. “Not impressed, huh?” She hoped to lighten the mood, but his features remained stoic.

“There are many things we’ll have to learn to survive outside the hell of Roma,” he said. “But we are not completely ignorant.”

The flatness of his voice almost crushed the satisfaction she was feeling at seeing the empty space around them. “I never thought you were, Jupiter.” She turned to break free of his hold.

He let her step weakly free of the safe circle of his arms. She lurched her way through the wreckage, clinging to whatever she could reach, to retrieve Bug.

By the time she reached its hiding spot, Jupiter was there too, lifting her back into his arms. She pulled Bug free from the snarl of exposed wires, then spoke without meeting his gaze.

“Thanks. Back to the pilot’s panel, please.

” When they reached it, Jupiter put her back on her feet.

She placed Bug on the console. She adjusted its position and began a power siphon.

“Now what?” Jupiter asked, some of his stiffness gone.

Good question. There was still too much to do and too much that could go wrong, but sharing her concerns would benefit no one. “Now, we find out if we can fix this hulk, at least well enough to maneuver, before Fitz or Stone realizes you weren’t in those escape pods and comes back.”

Seneca leaned a hip against the opposite end of the control station as he watched her work. “How long will that be?”

“With any luck, they’ll still be at odds and slow each other down.

And I programmed a little surprise into the pod systems that should cause a minor explosion if they try to bring one of the pods onboard.

Not enough to do serious damage, but enough to cause some confusion and make a mess.

That’s if they try to bring it on board and if they don’t take precautions against a power overload. ”

“What are the odds they won’t take precautions?” Seneca folded his arms across his chest, but the move looked all wrong on him.

“They won’t expect you to know how to rig something like that, but they should at least be considering that I might and that I might have been with you. And since they’re a professional salvage crew, I’d say the odds are pretty damn long against us.”

Jupiter gently squeezed her good shoulder. “Now who’s the pessimist?”