Page 25

“Of course.” His hand at the base of her spine sent a shiver of heat through her. He escorted her through a door into large quarters. “Address the display vid with the full name of the person you wish to speak to, and it will connect you using their closest communication device.”

She faced the screen and tried to regulate her breathing.

“Do you require privacy?”

She shook her head. “Anthony Pierce, Demeter Station.” She held her breath as an image flickered and formed.

“Pierce here.” His handsome face was as clear as day.

“So much for Turner duty,” she said past the lump in her throat.

He whipped his gaze up and gaped at her.

In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him speechless. Her ordeal was almost worth it. Not .

“Wren? Where the hell have you been?” He glowered. “Your folks, your brothers, everyone thinks you’re dead or worse. You’ve got the entire station wondering where you went with your empty suit still tethered to the tower crane.”

She shrugged while pretending tears didn’t threaten to fall. “I got kidnapped,” she rasped.

“Leaving your suit behind? And why’s your skin purple?

You better get your ass back here, missy.

I’m done babysitting you, too. Do you have any idea how much shit you dumped on me?

E.A.F. interrogated me as if I’d smuggled you away.

Parole violation means imprisonment, y’know. For what? Some sort of joyride?”

“She does not lie,” Cylo growled, coming to stand behind her, coating her back with warmth. His fury made her square her shoulders, despite the swell of gratitude swelling her heart.

Pierce fell silent, nor did he blink. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “Who took you?”

“Yithians and Maloidians…for experimentation.” She waved her hand. “Hence the purple. Cylo rescued me and other women. I’m heading to the Etterian royal city in the hopes they can heal me.”

“I did say your jumps might get you killed.” Pierce rubbed his face. “I’ll inform your family.”

“Thanks.” Facing her parents would turn her into a blubbering mess. “If I survive this—”

“You will,” Cylo said, determination rolling off him.

She rested the back of her head against his chest. “I’ll deal with the fallout then.”

The ship shuddered, shimmering Pierce’s image.

Crushing her against him, Cylo looped an arm around her to tap his O.D.I. “Fyca?”

“We are being pursued.”

“And fired upon?” Cylo roared.

“Affirmative.”

“Call ended.” Cylo dragged Wren with him, ushering her to the bridge. Concern but not panic hit her from every man she passed. “Yithian?” Cylo asked, settling behind Fyca.

Next to a wide-eyed Brenda, Wren sank onto a chair. She reached across the table between them to squeeze her shoulder. Relief was short and sweet before her fear filtered through the air like the sour stench of curdled milk.

“Yes.” Fyca’s fingers flew across the console. “The ship’s trajectory is from Mascroba. Do you think they know we destroyed—”

“We left no trace,” Cylo said. “Hail them but no visuals.”

Fyca cleared his throat. “Yithian vessel, this is the Etterian scimitar Kevol . What are your intentions?”

“Etterians, so arrogant,” a Yithian hissed. “Your orbit around Yithia was most curious.”

“A meeting with the battleship Phoenix , nothing more,” Fyca said, casting a glance at Cylo.

“And yet you fire upon us without provocation.” Cylo gripped the back of Fyca’s chair and glared at the console. “I am not in the mood for this. Do not test me, Yithian.” He mumbled something Wren couldn’t catch, sending Fyca into a flurry of activity.

She shut her eyes, hoping to catch their emotions. An indomitable control smothered everything except what Brenda released in a steady flow.

“Come, I’m hungry,” Wren said, rising to her feet.

“But—”

“Fyca and Cylo know what they’re doing.” Wren took Brenda’s hand and tugged her out of the chair. “What do you feel like?” she asked, hurrying them to the common.

“How can you eat at a time like this?”

“Considering I had a bowl of soup?” Wren met her gaze.

“A grilled cheese sandwich sounds amazing. Do you know how to work the food thingy?” Of course, she’d already figured out how to navigate the rehydrator and replicator, but giving Brenda something to do might distract her.

“Oh, and a coffee with cream and sugar. I’d kill for that.

” While Brenda ordered the food, Wren settled onto the bench.

“Why aren’t you purple?” she asked when the woman slid a plate onto the table.

The aroma of melted cheese made Wren’s stomach gurgle.

Brenda gave a delicate shrug. “I was for a short time. Qaff caught the effects in time.”

“But not mine.” Wren bit into her sandwich and moaned. She chewed slowly in case this many carbs so soon would upset her stomach.

“Yeah. Fyca said you had a triple dose of unknowns.” She pushed off and returned with a plate of fries which she picked at.

The ship lurched, drawing a yelp from her.

“Felt like we fired at the Yithians.” Wren sucked on a thumb, then rotated her sandwich to find the best bite.

“A battle?” Brenda squeaked.

Wren laughed. “Do you think the Etterians can’t fight well? Have you seen their muscles, their technology?” And without going into detail, Cylo’s confidence still pressed in on her.

Brenda gave a tentative smile and took another fry. “You’re right. I’m being silly.”

“And you’re okay with being Fyca’s soul mate?” Wren drew her coffee nearer for a sip, then abandoned her sandwich for a gulp. The hot, sweet liquid warmed her belly. In an act of gratitude, she pressed a kiss to the mug.

“I was curious. It’s always been a fault of mine.

I explored the ship and found him on the bridge.

At first, he didn’t glance at me, just answered my questions.

” Brenda giggled. “Until he swiveled his chair and faced me.” She shut her eyes on a hum.

“Wow. Seeing the Ethera hit him was amazing. He didn’t hide his eye-color change, but his expression of awe won me over.

No man has ever looked at me like that.” She met Wren’s gaze. “Is Cylo yours?”

Wren opened her mouth to answer, but that very man approaching her silenced anything she was going to say.

She ran her gaze over him, lingering on his long legs, his massive feet, then up to the width of his shoulders, the strong column of his neck, and his chiseled jaw.

His gaze was fixed on her. As well as all his attention.

He spared Brenda a glance. Wren couldn’t answer her anyway.

He wasn’t her Eth, but he acted like he was.

He assessed the half-eaten sandwich. “You are eating. Good.”

“And?” she asked, gesturing to the bridge. “The Yithians?”

“Dead,” he said, sliding onto the bench beside her.

“That’s my cue.” Brenda bolted, returning to Fyca.

Cylo pulled her plate across to him and picked up a fry. “I fired the Chokaar.” He bit into the fry then dropped it in distaste.

Wren smothered a chuckle at his reaction. “So,” she coughed, “I assume that’s some sort of weapon.”

“Indeed. If you are done with your meal, let me show you to your quarters.”

She grabbed her coffee and scrambled after him. Back to the barracks they headed—the same place as Hiossu’s cabin.

Cylo gestured to a panel beside a door far away from Hiossu’s. “Place your hand there. It will allow only you and security to enter.”

“Security?” she asked, pressing her palm to the cool glass. It scanned her then slid the door open.

“Me,” he said, a smile twitching his lips. “I am to your right. Olin to your left. Should you need either of us…” He paused. “We have increased propulsion to reach Issneen sooner.” Inching closer, he cupped her cheek. “I do not want you in danger again.”

“Um, thanks,” she said, unable to bear the onslaught of his chaotic emotions: honor, desire, concern, determination, anger…

He dipped and caught her lips in a sweet kiss, not lingering despite his aching need to deepen it. “When you awaken in the morning, I will ask Qaff to insert an O.D.I—”

“I have one,” she said, touching her wrist without spilling her coffee.

His grin was brilliant to behold, snatching her ability to think. A swipe of his arm across hers sent a zing to her elbow and broke her from her daze. “Comm me if you need me.”

The door swished shut on his handsome face, and she was once again alone with her own thoughts. More importantly, her own emotions.