Quantum (13 page)

Zander ran a hand over his hair. “There must be something wrong with your computer system. The palm scanner confirmed my identity, didn’t it? If the codes aren’t working, there’s obviously something wrong on your end. I need that room, or you’ll be hearing from Admiral General Audric.”

The hotel employee’s knuckles whitened where he held the ident-pad, but he shook his head resolutely. “It’s hotel policy, sir. I can’t allow you to have the room if your security codes aren’t—”

Zander braced both hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Then get a tech guy down here to check your system before I call the admiral general and tell him we no longer require your hotel’s services.”

The man’s mouth opened and closed a few times as his face went pale. Yep, Zander’s overbearing captain admiral act told her they were definitely back to reality.

Mae sighed. This was getting them nowhere fast. She touched Zander’s arm and moved up beside him at the desk. He shot her a frustrated look then stepped back and crossed his arms. Though he’d put some space between him and the hotel employee, his bearing promised the man was doomed.

“Why don’t we try it under my account? Lieutenant Marshal Mae Petros.”

The man ducked his head to type on the display and held the ident-pad up for her. She pressed her hand against it for the scan and then typed in her security code.

Relief flooded the man’s face as he glanced from the display back to her.

“Security codes cleared, Lieutenant Marshal.” He handed her two hotel key cards in a folder with a small screen of revolving ads about the hotel’s amenities.

“Thank you.” She turned, catching the death glare Zander leveled at the hotel employee. “Are you going to stand there doing your best captain admiral glower all day, or are you coming up to the room?”

She didn’t wait for an answer and started across the lobby toward the bank of elevators, deliberately not looking at anyone she passed. She’d had enough of that when they’d first walked in.

Zander caught up with her as she pressed the button for the elevator and a door to their right whooshed open.

“I don’t understand why my security codes didn’t work.” Zander punched the button for the twenty-second floor before she could. He cut her a sideways glance, nothing short of outright suspicion in his gaze that almost had her rolling her eyes.

Great.
Were they reverting to the early stage of their relationship where he suspected she had something to do with everything that went wrong? Just when she thought they’d gotten past that.

She focused on the elevator control screen before her temper could get the better of her. “FYI, you’re totally paying me back for however much that suite cost, Captain Admiral.”

From the corner of her eye, she caught him frowning at her. “And why am I covering the cost? Fifty-fifty sounds about fair to me.”

“You wanted to go fifty-fifty, you should have asked for a standard room like a normal person. Us non–captain admiral people wouldn’t know what to do with an entire suite.”

“Duly noted,” he replied with dry humor. Zander clasped his hands behind his back, his head tilted up, presumably looking at the floor numbers as they lit up one by one.

Maybe sarcastic humor wasn’t the smartest way to deal with him, but the other option was arguing. Again. And she’d had quite enough of that yesterday. It was so much easier when they were getting along. Plus, she still had to get him to Rian. At least some of that issue had resolved itself. She had him alone, separated from any form of IPC backup. All she had to do was manipulate things so they ended up on the
Imojenna
, not on the
Swift Brion
. Sure…easy. She scrutinized his body, calculating her chances of being able to overpower him. Not great, but she might be able to do it with enough surprise.

Except as her stare ran back up his sculpted body, recent memories ambushed her—of trailing her fingers along the strong column of his throat and down his chest to more interesting places. A deep well of longing and a flash of weird emotion burned through her.

Zander glanced down at her, his gaze roaming her face, and his eyes darkened a touch.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that.” His voice came out low, husky, and intimate enough to make her insides clench. “Because apparently I’ve only got so much control where you’re concerned.”

She tore her gaze away from him and focused on the shiny, polished surface of the elevator doors. But that didn’t stop her from feeling him move closer until their shoulders brushed. A shiver rippled through her as he leaned in.

“You know, if there wasn’t a camera in this elevator…hell, even with the camera I’m tempted enough to throw caution to the wind. But I don’t suppose you’d want our intimate scene played out on tonight’s intergalactic news broadcast.” He moved away and she sucked in a long breath, warmth radiating up her chest and neck, into her cheeks.

“I can just see the headlines now.” His tone had taken on an amused edge. “
Captain Admiral, or Captain Amorous? You Be the Judge.
”

She braced a hand against her mouth, fighting a smile as they reached their floor and the elevator doors opened. Really, she shouldn’t find it funny. This was a serious situation, and things would get worse before they got better. Yet the irreverent, almost boyish side of Zander’s personality completely charmed her.

She followed him out of the elevator and down the hall, finding their room almost at the end of the corridor. Zander waited while she unlocked the door with one of the key cards and then let her go in ahead of him.

Over her years in the IPC and UAFA, she’d stayed in a few fancy hotels but hadn’t ever booked into an actual suite. She walked into the main sitting room, crossing her arms at the clean, shiny, light-colored surfaces.
Great, now I feel even dirtier.

To the left, double doors opened onto a large bedroom with a massive bed. Ahead, wide windows looked out over the spaceport, where ships continually landed and took off in choreographed chaos. To her right, a partitioned alcove appeared to be some sort of office.

Zander brushed by her…
shirtless
. Her lungs failed.
Damn.
She might have seen the man naked just this morning, but the sight of his muscles shifting as he bent down to strip out of his pants sent her heart pounding against her ribs.

Tension streamed through her body, and she tightened her fingers around her biceps. “What are you doing?”

Urgh.
That sounded so dumb. It was pretty obvious
what
he was doing—she should have asked
why
.

Zander glanced back at her as he dropped his shirt and pants in the waste chute, leaving him standing there in his boxer briefs.

“Didn’t want to wear those clothes a second longer than I had to.” He walked over to the viewer screen and brought up hotel services. “What clothes size are you? No, wait, let me guess. A size eight?”

“Did you really guess that, or was it in my file?”

He stared up at the screen as he scrolled through various options of room service but didn’t look back at her. “Can’t go revealing all my secrets, can I? Besides, I’m the captain admiral. It’s my job to know everything.”

“Even your subordinate’s dress size? That’s straying across a line, if you ask me.”

This time he did look back at her, his expression edged with a serious intensity.

“I’m not into knowing the personal details about all of my crew. But it seems there are some people I can’t help but take extra notice of, even when I know it’s not in my best interest.”

Well, at least they seemed to be on the same page about this relationship—or whatever had developed between them—being all kinds of wrong.
If only he didn’t feel so damn right.

She was tempted to tell him the full truth, to try to salvage some of the budding emotion, but she shook off the thought and turned her attention to the spaceport beyond the window. The secret was bigger than just the two of them and definitely more important than whatever superficial feelings she’d developed for him because they’d slept together. It seemed melodramatic to think the fate of the universe relied on her, but it probably wasn’t very far off accurate. If the Reidar had replaced one captain admiral in Zander, who was to say they hadn’t replaced all the captain admirals and other senior IPC military officers? If that turned out to be the case, then the war would be lost before it began.

“Okay. New uniforms and civ clothes, as well as a three-course meal and a med scanner should be here within half an hour. You want to take first shower?”

He’d moved away from the viewer screen and was helping himself to a bottle of water from the amenities bar.

You want to shower with me?
Because she wanted to press up against the hard length of his body one last time. To pretend for a few more minutes that she wasn’t the bad guy in this scenario.

Ergh!
She could slap herself. What had happened to her fortitude? A spasm wrenched through the middle of her chest.

“Thanks. I’ll take first shower.” Her words came out blunt and sharp.

Zander shot her a curious look as he twisted the top off the bottle, making his biceps and shoulders flex.

Why in the fiery pits of Erebus couldn’t the man have waited five damned minutes to strip off until she was no longer in his presence? Was he
trying
to lure her into starting something with him? Or did he just have no idea what an enticing, irresistible sight he made standing there in next to nothing, even if he hadn’t shaved or had a proper wash in three days?

She turned to flee for the shower but paused after a single step. Maybe he really
didn’t
know what he was doing to her. Maybe he needed a dose of his own medicine.

With slow movements, she pulled at the fastenings on her shirt. Was she really going to do this? This wasn’t her—she didn’t tease or play these sorts of games.

With a shallow breath, she shrugged out of the coat and shirt at the same time, leaving her in the utilitarian bra she always wore. She wanted to glance back at Zander as her fingers dropped to the catch on her pants, but she’d become unable to do anything other than continue with this outrageous show she’d started.

She pushed the pants down her hips, over her upper thighs, and then used her feet to push them the rest of the way off. Next, she tugged the tie out of her hair and unclipped her bra, letting it drop to the pile of clothes. She hadn’t planned on going so far, but the progression felt natural, made a powerful glow burn to life within her.

Lastly, she slowly dragged her underwear down her legs, toeing them to lie next to her pants. With a slow pivot, she turned to face Zander, her breath catching with exhilaration.

He’d frozen in place, the empty water bottle on the carpet at his feet. His fists were clenched, muscles across his chest bunching, eyes glittering as he stared at her, and the evidence of what he thought outlined against the cotton of his boxers.

“I hope you ordered me new underwear along with those new clothes.” She picked up her discarded garments and sauntered to the waste chute. “Otherwise, I’ll just have to go without until we get back to the
Swift Brion
.”

“You are an evil genius.” His voice came out deeper and roughened. “Because if I didn’t, every time I looked at you, I’d be picturing you like this and thinking about the fact you’re not wearing underwear.”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she crossed the room. “You started it. I just finished it. Now, I’m going to have that shower.”

Without looking at him, she entered the luxurious bathroom, which was the size of her old bedroom at the apartment she’d kept while working for UAFA. The shower was ridiculous—four nozzles set at various angles. A spa bath big enough for ten people sat on a platform in front of a holograph of Tocarra’s forests. The tiles were all dark, sensual colors, and a shelf held fluffy towels and every kind of lotion, wash, or product a girl could dream of.

She paused to sniff a few, picking an earthy Shivani rose–based wash, then headed to the shower stall. She dialed on two of the nozzles, feeling guilty enough about that. Who would ever use four, and why?
Totally excessive.
Except if Zander joined her, it was easy enough to imagine luxuriating under all four sprays, even as they indulged in each other.

She sighed and closed her eyes, searching for that iron will she kept claiming to have.

Forget it, Mae, forget him. Once the truth comes out, he’ll certainly want to forget you in a hurry.

Chapter Twelve

I just finished it.

Those four words were about the only thing stopping Zander from helping himself to Mae’s shower…
and Mae
.

It took every shred of control he had, and then some, to stop from moving when she did her little striptease.
Jezus.
What he wouldn’t have given to get his hands on her.

Idiot that he was, he’d gotten so comfortable around her, he’d thought nothing of getting out of those damned clothes. His mind had been focused on all the things he needed to do in order to get back to his ship, and no doubt the piles of work that had accumulated in his absence. However, when Mae started taking off her clothes, his mind went into meltdown while his body smoldered to life.

It would have been too easy to forget anything existed beyond them and this room, just like in the forest. Except they’d returned to civilization and reality, where she still held secrets that would bring nothing but trouble, and more intimacy wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Besides, she was his admiral’s assistant. Once they got to the
Swift Brion
, anything of a personal nature between them would be strictly forbidden.

I just finished it…
Yeah, he guessed she really had.

And what the hell had that tech issue been all about—his codes not working, but hers did? He wanted to put it down to a coincidence, some weird technical glitch that meant absolutely nothing. Didn’t want to revive that acid-burning, frustrating sense of mistrust toward her. But after everything that had happened in the past few days, it was like adding another splinter to an already bloody finger.

Zander blew out a long, uneven breath and made his muscles relax, then shoved the empty water bottle in the waste chute. He returned to the viewer screen and flipped through some of the entertainment feeds, stopping on one of the replays of the weekend’s Inter-Worlds League football. He perched on the arm of the couch, forcing his mind to stay blank as he watched the game. Because if he didn’t think about certain things, he wouldn’t be tempted to do anything of career-jeopardizing stupidity…again.

The minutes, long with tension, ticked by, and the IWL game didn’t do much to distract him.
This is how things are going to be from now on. You have to find a way to detach.

Maybe he should regret what had happened between them because of the consequences they now faced. Yet those moments he’d shared with Mae had been something truly unique and extraordinary in a way he’d never experienced before with any other woman. It drove him crazy that he couldn’t trust her.

A swish of movement behind him heightened his senses when she returned, wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffy, dark blue bathrobes, her black hair hanging in damp ropes past her shoulders. As she came closer, the subtle, clean scent of her ambushed him. He pushed to his feet and took a large step back as she dropped down onto the couch.

“Now all I need is some food and to sleep in an actual bed, and it’ll be like the last few days never happened.” She paused to look up at him. A flash of emotion crossed her face, but then her expression fell blank.

“You’re right.” He strove to keep his own appearance carefully neutral. “But there will still be the families of my fallen officers to contact when we finally get back to my damned ship.”

A knock sounded on the door, followed by a muffled announcement of “room service.”

Zander headed for the bedroom. “Can you get that? The sooner I get through the shower, the sooner we can contact the ship.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied as she stood up from the couch.

He ignored the idiotic twinge in his chest at her use of “sir.” Really, what had he thought was going to happen when they got back to civilization and reality hit?
I didn’t think, not above my belt, anyway, and that was half the problem.

Zander could have stood under the steaming spray of water and relaxed for half an hour, but he made himself hurry through washing, drying, and then flipping a towel around his hips. Back out in the sitting room, Mae was dressed in IPC standard shipwear and sitting at the small dining table, watching an intergalactic news feed while she ate.

“You better leave me some food.” He stopped by the room service cart to sort through the pile of clothes he’d ordered, pulling out a crisp new uniform and grabbing the medical scanner to give himself a once-over. When he tapped the screen to life, he took a moment to access the last reading—Mae had some bruises and abrasions, including some over her ribs, but nothing more serious.

“I’m sure there’ll be a few leftovers.” She shrugged and stabbed some vegetables with her fork.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he returned to the bedroom, where he dressed in record time. As he’d hoped, he didn’t have any serious injuries, either; the worst was his initial head injury that had caused a minor concussion, which was now mostly resolved.

When he returned to the main room and sat opposite her to help himself to the various dishes, the silence stretched, tension between them racking up fast. Or maybe he was the only one feeling the strain. Mae certainly seemed relaxed as she put some more meat on her plate, her attention seemingly on the news feed.

The meal went by with little conversation. Occasionally one of them would comment on the intergalactic news items, but it was all so pedestrian, dull, and platonic, to the point they might as well have been strangers.

After the plates were emptied, Zander stood, wanting to get away from the table and the weird place they’d fallen into, where they could hardly relate to each other anymore.

Maybe it made him a total jerk, but between her secrets and the fact they’d slept together, he couldn’t see how he could work with her as his admiral’s assistant.

The idea of shipping her off once he got back to the
Swift Brion
left a hollowness in his chest he didn’t want to consider right now.

“Let’s contact the ship and organize a new rendezvous. I’m sure the crew will be relieved to hear from us.”

Mae nodded and rose from the table more slowly, her shoulders back and bearing reminding him of the first day he’d met her at the spaceport, IPC professionalism firmly in place.

She walked over to the viewer screen and turned off the entertainment feed, selecting communications from the main menu.

Zander positioned himself in front of the viewer and clasped his hands behind his back, rehearsing what he’d say to his crew. They’d have a lot of questions, many of which he wouldn’t be able to answer, because he still had no damn clue what he was supposed to do with the fact that someone had been trying to kill him.

“The hotel’s visual comm system is down, so I can only get us audio,” Mae said as the screen launched into a search to find and contact the
Swift Brion
.

Seconds ticked by, the search taking longer than it should. At last, the screen flashed with connections data, but it had to be wrong. According to the comm-link, the
Swift Brion
was no longer in orbit around Tocarra. In fact, the ship had left the solar system.

“That can’t be right,” Mae muttered.

“Try clearing the search and starting again.” He crossed his arms, frustration chewing away at the sense of control he’d restored since they’d gotten out of the wilderness.

A few seconds later, the same information appeared. Mae glanced over at him, confusion and questions clear in her expression. “Maybe when they couldn’t find us, the IPC ordered them to relocate?”

He shook his head, mind spinning as he tried to make sense of this. “No. They couldn’t go anywhere without the proper hierarchy in place. IPC protocol. And to get someone in to replace me, even temporarily, would have taken days.” Anger burned through his frustration. “Link me up. I want answers.”

Mae initiated the comm. A moment later, one of the communications officers onboard the ship answered.

“This is Captain Admiral Zander Graydon. I’m still on Tocarra and wondering who in the damn hell gave permission for the
Swift Brion
to break orbit.”

There was a long silence. Zander glanced at Mae, who shrugged.

“I don’t know who this is,” the comm officer replied at last. “But this is a secure IPC line. If you comm here again, I’ll have the government on your ass before you can terminate the linkup.”

The line disconnected, and Zander clenched both fists as incredulity mixed with antagonism like vinegar in his veins.

“Get that connection back now.” Damn the fact they didn’t have visual. Just what in the hell was happening on his ship?

The same comm officer answered.

“This is Captain Admiral Zander Graydon,
again
, and so help me christ, if you disconnect this line, I will bust your ass down to dirtside duties when I get back onboard. Now who the hell is in charge up there?”

The comm officer sighed. “I told you, this is a secure IPC line. Whoever you are, this is not funny. I’m tracking and forwarding this call to IPC authorities on Tocarra as we speak.”

“Fine. Do whatever you want, so long as you put me through to whoever is in charge of my damned ship.” Maybe if the Tocarra authorities turned up, they could get this mess sorted out sooner rather than later.

“The person in charge of this ship is Captain Admiral Zander Graydon, and he is currently in a subspace conference with the IPC appropriations committee. So, no, I can’t put you through right now, and wouldn’t even if he was free. Enjoy the rest of your life on Erebus, asswipe—the Tocarra authorities are about five seconds from taking you down.”

The line disconnected.

What in christ’s name—

Mae threw the viewer remote down on a nearby side table, the clatter catching his attention.

“
Oh god.
Zander, they did it. We have to get out of here.”

She brushed by him and started yanking off her IPC uniform. Except his mind had snagged on the whole
the person in charge of this ship is Captain Admiral Zander Graydon, and he is currently in a subspace conference
and couldn’t move past it. Even the sight of Mae in nothing but underwear didn’t clear the confusion.

“Who has done what, and what do you mean we have to get out of here?”

Mae didn’t stay undressed for long. She pulled on civ clothes and tossed a pair of plain cargo pants at him.

“The Reidar. They thought you were dead. They replaced you with a replica onboard the
Swift Brion
. You know what we just did? Called them up and told them you’re still alive and exactly where they can find you. In fact, they probably knew it the second you tried to check in.”

The Reidar?
Those frecking shape-shifting aliens Rian Sherron was so set on destroying? According to Rian, only a handful of people knew the truth about the Reidar’s existence. He eyed Mae more closely. And she was one of those few people?

She chucked the uniform aside and gathered up the other civ clothes he’d ordered for her. With a few quick movements, she’d whipped the cover off a cushion, stuffed the clothes inside, and fashioned it into a crude carry bag.

“How do you know about the Reidar?”

“Zander, seriously. Get out of your uniform. They’ll be here any second.”

While his mind processed the facts and got him automatically moving, logic was still asking
how, why, when…?
with a big fat
what the hell
thrown in for good measure.

Mae gave him a plain shirt and shoved the rest of his civ clothes in the cushion bag, then moved to the door and waited for him. He got his pants and boots back on and was still shrugging into his shirt as he followed her into the hallway.

Except frustration and confusion, knowing he was missing parts of this picture, dogged his steps. “This is ridiculous. You really think a shape-shifting alien has taken up residence as me on the
Swift Brion
?”

Mae shot him an impatient look over her shoulder as they passed the elevators and headed for the stairs. “You have some other explanation that makes more sense? You heard the comm officer. He said you were onboard the ship.”

Christ, if only he
did
have some other logical excuse.

Until a few months ago, he hadn’t even known the Reidar existed, and now one of the scum bastards had possibly taken over his life. Was that why his damned codes hadn’t worked today? Was that who’d sent the knife-wielding masked man, orchestrated the shuttle crash, and sent a missile and gunship to finish him off? Just what in the hell was a man meant to do about something like that?

Get revenge.

Pure, unadulterated wrath burned through him like a solar flare.

They hit the stairs at a jog, skipping two and three steps at a time as they hurried downward.

At the next landing, Mae paused, and taking a second longer to halt his downward momentum, Zander almost ran right into her. He was about to ask why she’d stopped, but then he heard it—steps echoing, getting closer, coming up toward them.

Mae sidled closer to the railing and looked down, holding up a hand for him to remain still. Except screw that, he could operate all stealth-like if that’s what she needed. He shifted up next to her and gazed down at the dizzying spiral of stairs, catching a glimpse of a single figure dressed all in black—suspiciously similar to the same guy who’d tried to knife him the day of the shuttle crash—sprinting upward. The utilitarian lights reflected off at least two or three weapons.

Zander lowered into a crouch, turning to put his shoulder blades against the railing, and pulled the knife, the only weapon they had between the two of them, from where he’d concealed it at his lower back. Mae got down next to him, head slightly away, toward the sound of steps getting closer.

Just as the steps crested the landing a step below them, Mae went up, catching the black-clad figure by surprise. But the advantage didn’t last, as the masked guy reacted with well-honed fighting instincts, throwing Mae clear. She hit the wall and stumbled to her knees.

Before the masked guy could advance on her, Zander launched his attack. Kicking the assassin in the back of the knees, he half caught the weight of the guy as he stumbled and then propelled him into the railing, hoping to knock him out. But the masked man managed to catch himself at the last second, avoiding his face impacting the metal rail.