Thief (32 page)

“Can you understand me now?”

“Yes, I can.” Payton smiled.

Jace leaned into her field of vision. “As impossible as you are, you’re apparently impossible to kill too.”

Kraft smiled. “I told you, I just refuse to die.”

“Makes you special.”

“Or crazy.” She winked very slowly, almost a blink. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” If that didn’t beat all. Her first concern wasn’t for herself, but him. If he didn’t grasp it before, he certainly did now. He loved her. “Everybody, including you, lives to fight another day.”

Kraft blinked slowly. “That’s good. Told you I didn’t want to die. But, Captain, and I’m only saying this as your cook, but if we could lay off fighting for a while, I’d really appreciate it.” She touched her bandaged belly. “I wouldn’t want to pull out all the fancy stitching.”

“Your wound was so bad it was more like knitting,” Payton said, leaning over and cupping Kraft’s face as she shined a light into her eyes.

Kraft laughed and winced. “It hurts when I laugh. I hope that’s not a permanent condition, because I do so love to laugh.” She looked up into Jace’s eyes. “I do so love to dance. Dancing with you was such fun I didn’t want anyone to cut in.” Kraft touched Jace’s face. “Because you are so very pretty and I do so love…you.” She fell asleep.

Jace looked down at her for a long moment. He turned to Payton. “How much of that was the drugs you got pumped into her?”

“Don’t try to foist that off on me.” Payton fiddled with the tubes and wires hooked up to Kraft. “I haven’t given her anything but antibiotics.”

“Come on, she’s barely lucid. You must have given her something for the pain.”

“She’s not in pain. I don’t know how or why, but her brain is doctoring her better than I ever could. I’m just a cheerleader on the side, lending support.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t save her, Jace, not really. Her body is healing so fast I feel like I’m watching a time-lapse.”

“What are you saying, Payton? She’s human, right?”

“She’s human, but she’s not like any human I’ve ever operated on. Kraft hardly lost any blood.”

“But she was covered in it!”

“That’s not hers.” Payton looked to Kraft’s cut-off clothing, so saturated with blood it buckled stiff in the corner. “Judging by how she looks like she swam in it, she must have killed at least twenty men.”

“There’s a hole in her belly big enough to stand in.”

“I know.” Payton shook her head. “By all I know as a doctor, Kraft should have died shortly after getting shot. However, she managed to crawl to you and tried to drag you onto
Mutiny
.”

“With that wound?”

Payton nodded. “Even though she was dying, she seemed bound and determined to save you.” Payton looked at Jace. “I find Kraft vulgar at times, and I don’t understand half of what shapes her, but she’s—” Payton searched for the word “—honest.” Payton shrugged. “Her behavior has not been marked by subterfuge. She is not what you thought, but she has not violated the code that made her show mercy to us. Everyone on this ship knows that in the derelict Basic Kraft could have easily killed us all, taken the goods and our ship. But she didn’t.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Have you ever asked yourself why?”

“Because she is an honorable thief.” Jace looked down at Kraft’s face. Blood and sweat still smudged her cheeks even after Payton and Charissa’s efforts to clean her up. Her hair, twined with black linen, lay in a lifeless clump under her neck. Like her clothes, it was thick and stiff with blood. Saturated by those she had killed to protect those she loved.

“Drugged or not, Kraft is nothing if not honest. If you had asked her directly to tell you the whole of her past, she would have done so without hesitation. Kraft would never have volunteered the information, because she wanted to be judged on her actions, not her past, on who she is, not who she was. But she would have told anyone of us had we asked.”

“We just didn’t ask the right questions.”

“There is that, but more so, she gave us no reason to doubt her. She’s never acted IWOG. Her code is her own, and more and more, I find her code is like mine. She said something to Charissa, shortly after she came aboard that has stuck with me.”

“What?”

“I give as good as I get.”

“You think it means what?”

“Treat her with honor and respect, she’ll do likewise.”

“Will she walk again?”

“I don’t know.” Payton shook her head. “Her regaining consciousness at all is nothing short of a miracle.” Payton checked Kraft’s heartbeat and noted it on her chart. “She wants to live, Jace. Kraft has a will to live like nothing I’ve ever witnessed. Don’t chain her up if she succeeds.”

Jace sat quietly at Kraft’s side, held her hand and waited. When his eyelids drooped, Payton let him sleep on one of the tables, drawn up to Kraft’s. He fell asleep holding her hand.

Jace awoke to find Kraft standing over him. “Am I dreaming?”

“If I look worse than I feel, you probably are.” Kraft leaned close with a grin.

Jace sat up. She looked like she’d been dipped in maroon mud. “You look wonderful.”

She shook her head. “Guess you’re awake and I’m alive, then.”

“You’re standing.”

“Yeah.” Kraft gave him a curious tilt of her head. “You want me to lie back down?” She shot him a lopsided grin. “I’m all for a friendly tumble with you, Captain Lawless, but I think we should wait until I get all these tubes and wires off me.” Kraft wavered ever so slightly and gripped the edge of the table. “On second thought, horizontal is seeming a lot easier to maintain then vertical.”

Jace rocketed to his feet. With a cup of his hands here and there, he helped her back to the table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I was going to go make dinner or lunch or whatever meal it is.” Kraft laughed. “To tell you the truth, I don’t even know what day it is. All I know is I’m glad to be alive and I’m so hungry I’m almost sick with it.”

“You’re in no condition to cook.” Jace glared at her. “Kraft, you are in no condition to even stand.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that.” She sighed. “But if I don’t eat something I’m not going to get better. My engine won’t run without fuel.”

After checking with Payton that it was okay for her to eat, Jace opened the com to the bridge. “Bailey?”

“Garrett here, Captain.”

“Where’s Bailey and Charissa?”

“Asleep.”

“Wake them up and tell them to report to the galley.”

“Yes sir.”

“What are you doing?” Kraft asked.

“You are about to have your first cooking show.”

Kraft pondered it. “Oh, good idea.”

“I’m not just another pretty face.” He winked.

“No, you are so much more than pretty.”

He felt her smile all the way down to his toes.

“Captain?” Charissa asked over the com. “I’m in the kitchen with Bailey. What do you want us to do?”

“Kraft is going to walk you through a meal. Okay?”

“Okay,” Charissa said slowly. She obviously thought this was some kind of cruel joke.

“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine,” Kraft said. “You’re going to make the easiest dish in the world. Spaghetti.”

“What do we do first?”

Jace could just imagine Bailey and Charissa contemplating the vast array of pots and pans.

“Take a deep breath,” Kraft said.

“Okay. Now what?”

“Bailey, in that big pull-down bin in the pantry you’ll find a bunch of onions. Grab three of the yellow ones.”

Patiently, Kraft walked them through preparing the meal. No question was too silly or strange, she answered them all with a clear and soft voice. She gave them lots of encouragement.

“Well, it’s ready,” Bailey said.

“It smells good too,” Garrett said.

“Wonderful. Garrett? Please fix two plates and bring them down to the infirmary.”

“On my way.”

Meanwhile, Jace stacked pillows and blankets behind Kraft’s back so she could sit up.

“You are not feeding me when he gets down here, so don’t even think about it.” Kraft settled back.

“You’re injured, not incompetent. Trust me enough to tell the difference.”

“Just so we’re clear.”

“You really are a control freak, aren’t you?” Jace rolled his eyes. “Even with two broken arms you’d want to feed yourself.”

“As you can see,” Kraft said, flexing her arms, “my arms are in perfect working order.” She considered. “However, if they weren’t, you’re probably right.”

Jace leaned over, very close, and breathed in her ear, “I know it’s like to be impossible for you, Kraft, but try real hard to let us help you.”

“I’ll try,” Kraft whispered. “Just don’t smother me with it.”

Jace pulled back. “At this moment I’m apt to smother you with a pillow.”

“Yeah? Get in line,” Kraft said with a grin.

“Twa plates of especial spaghetti,” Garrett said with a terrible French accent as he entered the infirmary. “Vith a side of garlic toast.” He set the plates down and bowed. “Vill madam and mauser be requiring candle light zis evening?” His horribly mangled accent made him spit all over the place.

“Say it, don’t spray it.” Kraft jokingly wiped her face off.

“Pardon my French,” Garrett said. He snorted at his own joke. “Should I open zee vine or—”

“If you find an actual accent, hop on! You’re vacillating between French and German, but I must say, dinner with a show is a rare treat.”

“You’re welcome, little lady,” Garrett said, with his normal voice and a slightly more forced western twang. “We aim to please at the Mutiny Saloon.”

“Surreal Saloon is what I’d dub it. Tell you what, I’m starting to wonder if I’m really awake.” She took a bite of the spaghetti. “Oh, now I know I’m awake. Bailey? Charissa? This is wonderful!”

Jace nodded to Garrett. “Before you fill your belly, take a plate to Heller.”

“Will do.”

Garrett left and Jace sat down to eat. Kraft wasn’t being kind; the meal was incredible. After the gaily colored glop Charissa had made, Jace doubted her ability to boil water so this was doubly amazing.

“I tell you what, I’m not ever standing over that stove again. I’m just going to lie back and tell them what to do.”

“You planning on sticking around for a while, then?”

“Unless you’ve got some sudden urge to toss me out an airlock.”

“Not at the moment.” Jace shrugged. “Long as you stay in bed and mind your manners.”

“Where’s Heller?”

“He’s not going to bother you.”

“Nice dodge. Where is he?” Kraft dropped her fork. “He made it, didn’t he?”

“Relax, he’s alive and kicking. Right now he’s probably sucking down about four plates of this, so if you want your fair share you best eat.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Heller was indeed alive and kicking. He was kicking the door of his prison cell with all his might. “Let me out!”

“Back off, Heller, I’m trying to open the door,” Garrett said over the com.

Heller backed off and Garrett entered with a plate of food. Heller took a deep sniff. “The bitch lives.”

“If you mean Kraft, yes, she does, but she didn’t make this. Bailey and Charissa did.”

“In a pig’s eye!” Heller grunted. “You working with her to get rid of me?”

“Yes, Heller, we’re all out to get you.” Garrett set the plate on the table.

“I knew you had itchy pants for her—how many times did she spread for you?”

Garrett felt an overwhelming urge to punch Heller in the face as hard as he could. By years of exercising an iron will, Garrett only glared. “Kraft nailed you dead-on, Heller—ugly fits you like a tailored suit.” Garrett strode from the room and closed the door. Heller threw himself against it.

“How the hell am I supposed to eat with my hands bound behind my back?!”

“Use your snout, you pig.” Garrett shook his head and returned to the infirmary.

Kraft and Jace were just finishing up.

“Captain? A word?”

Jace followed Garrett into the hall.

“Heller hasn’t calmed down. If anything, the burr up his butt has only grown in a right fertile ground.”

“He’s itching for a fight.”

“Something fierce. I didn’t dare uncuff him to eat. But I’m not sure if I was honestly protecting his hide or mine. He said something damn foul to me.”

Jace sighed. “Will you stay here while I go and see if I can talk him down a notch?”

Garrett looked at Kraft, who sat silently watching them from her bed. Kraft resembled a horror-show extra. Fore to aft, port to starboard, her body looked dipped in gore despite all efforts to gently clean her. Her shirt hung in stiff, blood-thick tatters against a blanket that covered most of the spotless bandage on her belly. He’d helped Payton cut away the worst of it, but they were reluctant to lift her to remove her shirt entirely. “I think I can keep her in check, Captain, whilst you tend to our resident mad man.”

Jace grinned as he looked over his shoulder at her. “Don’t ever mistake her easy. She’s feisty as a live wire but she’s rational.” Jace touched Garrett’s shoulder. “Oh, and good news? She can walk.”

Garrett brightened, pleased the question of a spinal injury was now moot.

“Counterpoint? Don’t let her.”

“Easier said than done,” Garrett said. “But I’m delighted at the challenge all the same.”

Jace made the short trip down the hall to where Heller was being kept. He opened the com.

“Heller? I want to talk to you.”

“Captain?”

“I’m coming in, Heller.” Before he slapped open the button to the door, he withdrew his pistol, flicked off the safety, but kept it pointed to the floor.

Heller backed off when he saw it.

“At the moment, I’ve got no call to use this and I hope to God you don’t give me one.”

“I won’t, Jace.”

“Fine. Sit down at the table.”

Heller did. Jace closed the door, holstered his gun and unlocked the cuffs. “Go ahead and eat.”

“Kraft made it.”

“No she didn’t. Bailey and Charissa did.”

“Not much dif, they want me dead too.”

“No they don’t. You’re letting paranoia run you, Heller, and I can’t say I blame you, being held here for three days.”

“Because of her.”

“Because of you.”