I arched a brow which broke him from his stare.
“Hang on,” he said.
I figured he meant that figuratively since there wasn’t anything to hang on to, but the second that weird force field disappeared, Isaak hit the gas and shot us past it.
Then he slammed on the brakes, and my head whipped forward.
There was a secondary force field, which I had to guess put us into an air lock or something. That one finally opened, and he really hit the gas.
My head shot back, and I felt pressed into the seat as if I were in a ridiculous roller coaster at an amusement park. This one hopefully didn’t have a sick drop.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, then relaxed when the speed and the craft leveled out. I was glad I never got car sick. “That’s got some kick.”
I saw his grin, the obvious pride in his ship. He was right. It might be small, but it was fucking fast.
I didn’t say anything for several minutes as he maneuvered us past what I thought was an asteroid field. He then pushed some button that I assumed was hyperdrive or turbo-whatever as we were out of there. If we were in a car, I’d have looked over my shoulder to see if they were still following, but I didn’t think anyone could have.
He unhooked his restraints and turned to face me. “All right, gara. Who the—” His gaze dropped from mine to my upper arm. “What the fark happened to you?”
I looked down, saw the blood staining my top. I hadn’t even known I’d been hurt, but now that he’d pointed it out, it stung like a bitch. “That blue lady needs a serious manicure.”
He hopped up, loomed over me and released my fancy seat belt. Taking my hand, he led me out of the cockpit and into an ancillary room. I looked around. The craft reminded me of a corporate jet although round and ridiculously fast. In space and not between Omaha and Miami. It was fine for one person, cozy for two. Painful for more than that. There was a tiny bed, unmade, a table the size of a cookie sheet and a bunch of wall cabinets.
He pushed me, so I sat on the bed and opened one of the cabinets, pulling out a wand of some kind. A blue light came on, and he waved it over my arm. The pain receded within seconds.
“What is that thing?” I asked, staring at it then up at him, realizing his face was inches from mine. How had I missed his five o’clock shadow before?
“ReGen wand. Better?”
I nodded.
He turned to the wall again and punched some buttons on what looked like a strange microwave. He looked to me, studied me, then back to the machine. He opened a little door and pulled out some folded clothes. “Here. I hope these fit. I guessed.”
I stared at the offering in his hands. “You cooked clothes?”
He frowned then shrugged. “Of course. The S-Gen machine will make whatever you need. How do you get clothes on Earth?”
“I order them online. Or go to the mall.”
He frowned some more. “I don’t know this mall.”
I took the items he held, set them on the bed. A black pair of pants and top. I stood up to change, but he just stood there. Stared. I spun my finger in a circle. “Privacy?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Not much of that on this craft.” Still, he turned around, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.
“Shouldn’t someone be flying this thing?” I asked, tugging off my bloodstained shirt and staring at my arm where Ulza had grabbed me. There was blood but no cut. That wand-thing had healed me. Amazing.
“Automated,” he said. “We’re good in this area of space. Want to tell me why Cerberus is after you?”
I frowned at his back then slipped the shirt on. It was soft and looser than the drab outfit I’d been given on Trion. I wasn’t sure if there were bras in space, but I was thankful I wasn’t well endowed because I wasn’t going to ask Isaak to make me one for my B cups.
“I don’t even know who Cerberus is,” I replied. “I told you, I was matched to Trion, and my mate was murdered.”
I shucked the old pants, donned the new ones. Without panties.
“You said Bertok killed him.” He hadn’t moved while I changed.
“That’s right. At first, I thought he did it because he wanted me for himself. That guy doesn’t have high regard for women,” I grumbled.
I heard Isaak’s laugh. “Women on Trion are to be cherished and revered. And submissive.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Well, I think the testing was wrong then,” I told him. “I’m far from submissive.” I figured Isaak had probably already realized that after our crazy getaway. “Got any shoes?”
He turned, looked down at my bare feet, then slowly worked up my body. I felt that stare as if it were a caress.
A funny sound escaped his lips as he turned back to the magical machine. Within seconds, he handed me socks and sturdy boots like his own.
My eyes widened, and I couldn’t help but stare. “Wow. Thanks.” I dropped back onto the bed, put them on. “What about you, space pirate?” I asked, tugging up a sock.
“What about me?”
I glanced up at him. “Why were you under the dome?”
“I kill Hive, take their integrations and sell them.”
“Why?”
His broad shoulders went up in a quick shrug. “Credits. Why else?”
“Yet you’re from Trion.”
“And you’re from Earth.”
I pursed my lips, looked away and put on the other sock.
“Got a space mansion somewhere?” I asked. “A secret hideaway? Bat cave?”
“You’re riding in it.”
I sat up, looked around. It wasn’t fancy, that was for sure. But it had definitely done the job and got us off that hell
