Rebels and Lovers (43 page)

“Maybe the Farosians will attack Starport Six and they’ll be called away.” Makaiden had pulled her right leg up underneath her in the pilot’s chair. Now and then her left boot heel thumped softly against the chair’s base. “Barring that, I’d say we’re stuck with them until we’re picked up by Talgarrath Traffic Control.”

“Makaiden, I’m sorry.” Elbows on his knees, Devin sat hunched over at the comm console, his monk’s robe an untidy lump on the decking by his boots. The heavy fabric no longer tortured him. His handling of Anibal continued to. “Anibal blindsided me with that escort offer. I’m a better negotiator than that. But I’ve never had to pretend to be someone else in negotiations. I lost focus and dragged us into further problems.”

“Not necessarily. We do legitimately read as the
Veil of Relief
. Tage’s people, if they’re there, will be looking for the
Rider
or a ship with Guthrie ownership docs. Same for Orvis or whoever else has pulled ship’s records from Dock Five by now. We’ll be coming in as an Englarian mission ship with a Fleet escort. A bit more fanfare than I’d like, but at least nothing about us screams
owned by a Guthrie.”

He’d considered that. But there was a downside. “Unless Anibal knows exactly who we are and this is just a ploy to deliver us to Tage without raising any alarms.”

“Fleet’s too regimented to run that kind of stunt.”

“The Fleet that my brother Philip knew, yes. But things have changed. I don’t even remember Philip mentioning a Thurman Anibal. For all we know, he’s an ImpSec operative.” Devin wished Barty was conscious. Barty would know, if not who Anibal was, at least if this was the kind of game Tage’s people would play.

“And you’re a Guthrie. Whatever Tage’s motives are behind tracking your nephew and maybe even engineering a fake kidnapping, he still has to deal with that fact.”

“It didn’t stop him from trying to kill Philip.”

Makaiden went silent, elbow on her armrest, mouth leaned against her fist. Then: “We have three hours before we hit the beacon and are picked up by Talgarrath Traffic Control. Assuming we’re not being led into an ambush, that give us three hours to work out some options. Including the shortest, quickest, and safest way to get you, Trip, and Barty transferred to the
Prosperity
once we get there.”

He considered waiting to tell her, springing it on her at the last moment, and probably would have done so if Barty hadn’t been ill. But Barty was, and that bespoke additional—and likely somewhat complex—planning. His selfish desire to give her as little time as possible to say no collapsed under the weight of the responsibility of the lives of Barty and Trip. “I’m not going back to Sylvadae on the
Prosperity.”

She frowned, then slowly arched that one asymmetrical eyebrow. “You think J.M.’s going to have you shot on sight?”

She’d heard his and Barty’s recounting of the confrontation in his father’s library. He gave her a wistful smile. “He’ll have a few choice words.”
Though
maybe not before breakfast
. “But I think you and I should go to Tal Verdis.”

The frown was back. She shrugged. “You own this ship. But unless Tage has changed his restrictions, I don’t have clearance to cross the A–B. I could file for it, sure, but that could take weeks.”

He mimicked her shrug. “I’ll wait.”

“And your family? Your projects?”

“Talgarrath’s serviced by TransNet and Zipcomm. GGS has accounts with both. Once the security issues are cleared at the estate, talking to my family from Port Chalo wouldn’t be all that different from talking to them from Garno. And my office has dealt with me being off-planet many times.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s not like you to dodge your responsibilities.”

“I’m not dodging my responsibilities. I’m trying to keep you in my life.”

“Devin—”

“We
have
something, Makaiden.” He had to make her understand this, now. He feared there wouldn’t be time later. “Something that’s been building for years. Something I’ve wanted for a long time. I’ve spent too much of my life doing what others expected of me, rationalizing that it was my job to handle those responsibilities that Jonathan was too busy to do, that Philip wasn’t around to do, and that Ethan didn’t want to do. So I did them, and to a great extent I’ll probably always do them. Just like I will make sure Trip and Barty are safely on their way home.

“But this chance to have you in my life, it’s my one great rebellion. It’s my making a choice because you are what I want. I don’t walk away from my responsibilities. But I’m tired of walking away from my dreams.”

Her lips parted as if to say something, but then she closed them and, with a small shake of her head, looked away.

“You don’t believe me.”

She turned back, her expression softening. “No, idiot that I am, I do. It’s just that …” And she stopped.

He heard a slight quavering in her voice. It was all he needed to shove himself out of his chair and cross the short distance to where she sat at the front of the bridge, arms now crossed defensively over her chest.

He touched her shoulder, then cupped her face with his hand before she could pull back. “You’re not an idiot. I could never fall in love with an idiot.”

Something flashed in her eyes, then she sighed. Confusion? Frustration? Capitulation? He couldn’t tell.

“I can’t … deal with this right now, Devin. I have an Imperial destroyer an hour behind me and closing, Talgarrath two and a half hours in front of me, and no idea what’s waiting for us when we get dirtside.
If
we get dirtside.”

He leaned down and brushed her mouth with a kiss—a kiss he was encouraged to note she responded to without hesitation. Then the kiss deepened and—praise the stars!—it was her choice to do so. She leaned up into him, one arm curling around his neck. A rush of heat shot through him. He grasped her shoulders tightly, then ran his fingers up her neck and into the silk of her hair. He wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms and down the corridor into her quarters. He wanted her naked in bed, the feel of her heated skin on his, the scent of her in his nose, the sweet taste of her in his mouth.

But what he wanted would have to wait. There was
an Imperial destroyer loaded with weapons an hour behind them.

Still, there was no way he was going to be the one to break that kiss.

She pulled back with a reluctance that matched his own.

He cleared his throat and ignored how his body wanted her straddling him in that pilot’s chair. Another fantasy for another time. “I’m going to check on Barty and Trip, make sure Trip gets something to eat. We’ve missed a few meals. Then I’ll bring back some soup or casserole for us, and we’ll take our problems, and our options, one by one.” He tapped her chin lightly with his index finger. “Don’t mistake this for our promised meal. I intend to have that romantic dinner with you, Makaiden. And I want to dance with you again.”

Kaidee waited until she heard Devin’s boot steps fade and the lift doors close before slumping in her chair, her head thumping against the seat back. GGS was known for its single-minded persistence in pursuit of success. Now she knew where that came from.

Her defenses were down, her concentration fractured because of the seriousness of their situation. And here he was, closing in. Literally. It was a brilliant strategy. With all that had happened—their mad escape from Dock Five, Barty’s illness, her ship’s malfunctions, their damned dancing lessons—she barely had time to catch her breath.

Then Devin would kiss her, leaving her even more breathless.

Damn him.

She straightened, shoving all that away, and pulled
up her data on the spaceport at Port Chalo. It looked like she was going back to the one place she never wanted to see again.

The place where Kiler died.

The aroma of melted cheese wafting in from the corridor—and the sound of familiar boot steps—made her pull her concentration from the data on her screens and turn. No surprise: Devin with a tray.

“Barty’s infection is receding, but the med-unit’s unhappy with his continued collapses.” He put the tray on an empty chair at navigation, then handed her a mug of soup. “Trip negotiated with it”—Devin’s mouth twisted in a wry smile—“and it will begin bringing Barty back to full consciousness once we hook up with Talgarrath’s controllers. He should be mobile by the time we reach the spaceport.”

She swallowed her mouthful of soup, suddenly aware of how hungry she was. She’d missed lunch, and the apple slices she had for breakfast were a faint memory. “I’m fairly sure we’ll be directed to the general aviation terminal there, but, other than that, I have no idea where they’ll hangar us. Probably not with the luxury yachts. It could be quite a hike for us to find the
Prosperity
. Will Barty be up to that?”

“Couldn’t you send a message to their comm? Find out where they are?”

“This isn’t a GGS ship. The
Prosperity
won’t automatically recognize our signal. We’d have to go through the general port comm links, which leaves a record, and I don’t want to risk someone tracing our message. It would be easier and safer, once we get dirtside, if you use your Rada or Trip’s pocket comm to reach Ethan on board.”

“He won’t be on board.”

“Ethan’s not meeting you?” This surprised her.

Devin was shaking his head. “He gave no indication he would be, no. And with all that’s going on at home, I doubt he’d leave. You read his last message. He has his hands full.”

She had and remembered that the estate’s security was compromised. That, coupled with the bombing of Devin’s office, would require Ethan’s presence at GGS—not chasing through Baris after his nineteen-year-old nephew, who already had one uncle and one longtime family employee as escorts.

Ethan didn’t know about Fuzz-face. Or Orvis. But she did, and until she got Trip, Barty, and Devin to the
Prosperity
and under the care of GGS staff, she wasn’t sure she could guarantee their safety. “We can’t discount that someone might be watching the ship. We’re going to have to literally cruise the hangars to find her.”

“She might be locked. Whoever’s been sent with the
Prosperity
will probably be waiting at the passenger terminal. You know I was never able to update Ethan that we were coming in on the
Rider.”

“They’ll have to come back to the
Prosperity
eventually. Once we know where the ship is, we gain access, then use ship’s comm to reach the pilot. Unless your father gave orders to lock you out and changed all GGS ship codes, the security program will recognize you. Which is why you should be going back on the
Prosperity,”
she added softly. “You’re needed at home, Devin.”

Another firm shake of his head. “If I’m needed anywhere, it’s on Garno—a good reason you should take me there. As far as my family and the estate, Jonathan and Ethan are on site. So’s Marguerite.” He cocked his
head slightly, as if some thought amused him. “Sometimes I think she’s smarter than Jonathan. And they have Petra Frederick and her people. They can do without me for a few weeks. And,” he said, as she started to launch her counterargument, “the
Prosperity’s
security program will definitely recognize Trip.”

“What if Frederick is part of the problem?” It was a stretch for Kaidee to believe Petra Frederick would turn against the Guthries, but the possibility had been raised before, and she had to make Devin see why he had to leave.

“Then my returning to Sylvadae would leave no one outside their trap. If Frederick is working with Tage in trying to flush Philip out, or if my father has truly gone over the edge, the one place I don’t need to be is in their grasp.”

He was right, damn his logic. But his logic and the whole discussion about the
Prosperity
might be useless. “We have to get out of Anibal’s grasp first. We’re assuming he is who he says he is and that his sole purpose in escorting us is that he’s looking to find religion again. None of that may be true. We need to work out options if there’s an unwelcome welcoming committee waiting for us ahead.”

He turned his soup mug in his hands. “Tell me what this ship can and cannot do if there is an ambush.”

“We can’t make a run for it and we can’t shoot back. Especially against an Imperial welcoming committee. Our best bet would be negotiations once they take us into custody. The biggest thing against us will be the ship’s altered ID. I’ve been giving that some thought. I think—and hear me out—that laying the blame for that on me is our best option.”

“I’m not going to let—”

“You are, and here’s why. I can prove that Orvis has
been after me. From what Barty says, Fleet has no more love for Orvis than I do. That gives us a common enemy. We go with the story—which isn’t that far from the truth—that I ran into you on Dock Five, convinced you to buy my ship to help me get away from Orvis. In exchange, I got you to your meet point with the
Prosperity
. But because of the way the sales transaction was handled, I got paranoid that Orvis would find us. So I changed ship’s ID. This leaves you, Trip, and Barty out of that whole mess.”

“Other than impersonating an Englarian cleric?”

“I forced you to do that. I didn’t believe the ship tailing us was Fleet. I convinced you we had to play this game or we’d all die.”

“How about you bribed me with sexual favors?” His mouth was twitching.

She knew he was using humor to undermine her argument. “If that’s what it takes to keep you, Barty, and Trip safe, fine. Tell them whatever you want.”

The hint of a smile faded. “I’m not letting you take the blame.”

“Yes, you are, and for the same reason you told me it’s unwise for you to go back to Port Palmero: that leaves no one on the outside to go for help.” She straightened, the look of surprise on his face supremely satisfying. She’d used his own argument against him.

“They could still decide to lock up the whole lot of us.”

“But you can always roll over and offer evidence against me. Cut a deal. Use those negotiation skills you brag about.”

He slid his soup mug onto the console’s ledge, then folded his arms across his chest. It was a casual movement, but she remembered how to read Devin Guthrie.
When he was calm, that was when there was the most danger.