Malfunction, page 19
“No way. Is that even a real thing?”
“Apparently, yes. They have tanks and everything. Obviously, the president is not going to tolerate any insurrection when we get to our brave new world.” He turned to Logan. “And this is Dylan”—he nodded to the dark-haired man—“and Adam.” The redhead. “Adam is ex-military, so you should be real buddies. Except he’s also Scottish, which probably means you won’t.”
Neither looked like they wanted to be buddies. Both had closed expressions. And despite the “lord and master” comment, they behaved more as equals to Rico than subservients. Maybe that was how things were on the Trakis Two.
“What’s he doing here?” Adam asked, taking the seat on the other side of Logan, while Dylan sat down in the chair Katia had vacated, crossed one leg over his knee. Sardi grabbed two more glasses and pulled another full bottle from somewhere.
“He’s investigating the…malfunctions. With Katia.”
Adam leaned forward. “Katia’s awake?” He sounded eager, and Logan twisted in his seat so he could look at the other man.
“What’s it to you?”
“Och, the wee lassie likes me.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Rico said. “She thinks you’re a tosser. Just like I do. Anyway, you might be interested to know that Katia has given Logan here her protection.”
“A human?”
He might as well have said a slug. Logan could hear the complete disbelief in the other man’s voice. Though Logan was starting to believe that “man” might not be a totally accurate description.
“Why would she have done that?”
“Probably his pretty eyes, but you’ll have to ask her. In the meantime, you two are on guard duty. There have been three attempts on our investigators’ lives. I want you to make sure that nothing happens to them until they finish the investigation.”
“You’re serious? You want us to babysit?”
“Do I look serious?” Rico asked, dealing out the cards. “In case you were undecided, the answer to that is yes—deadly serious. But it does mean that you both get to go to the party.”
“In which case,” Adam said, rubbing his hands together, “no problem.”
Logan shifted his chair a little closer to Sardi. He could feel the alcohol like a buzz in his head, numbing out the chaotic thoughts. He liked it and took another gulp. “What are they?” he asked in what he hoped was a quiet voice. Obviously not quiet enough, as everyone at the table turned to stare at him. “What?” he asked. “You can’t expect me not to be curious.”
“What do you think they are?” Rico asked.
He didn’t think they were vampires. There was something cold about Rico, and these guys came across as definitely hot-blooded. No horns, so he didn’t think they were demons, either. What did that leave? How the hell was he supposed to know? They had a slight flavor of Katia about them. Something he hadn’t even recognized, but now he knew what she was, he could sense the air of difference about her. But not quite the same.
“Werewolves,” he said. It was as good a guess as any.
Rico raised his glass. “The man got it in one. Very impressive.”
“Really? They’re actually werewolves.” Fucking hell, but that was cool. He wondered if they’d give him a demonstration if he asked nicely. He decided they might, but they might also eat him afterward, so another time perhaps.
An hour later, he had all the chips in front of him, and he was receiving some very dirty looks from everyone around the table. He guessed none of them were used to losing. Too many top dogs around here…ha ha, he liked that, werewolves—top dogs. He chuckled to himself. He was definitely drunk. He needed to lie down. He swallowed the last of his whiskey and slammed the glass onto the table.
Tomorrow was party day. Getting-in-a-shuttle-again day. How likely was it to all go to shit three times in a row?
Time to find somewhere to lay his fucking head for the night. He certainly wasn’t going to the room he’d been allocated; it was too close to where Katia had been poisoned.
Katia had said she was sleeping in the brig.
Likely she would be in bed by now. That small bed, all warm and cozy and maybe naked. Yeah, she’d definitely be naked. Maybe he’d go and offer to share some body warmth. Purely platonic. He didn’t think he could get it up right now anyway.
He pushed himself to his feet, swayed, and balanced himself with a hand on the back of his chair.
“Where are you going?” Rico asked.
“I have to go see Katia. Tell her I don’t think she’s an animal.”
Rico shook his head. “God help us all.”
He was aware of their eyes on him as he wended his way out of the room; there seemed to be an awful lot of obstacles to maneuver. He was on autopilot on his way back to the brig. Bouncing off the walls, but he made it eventually.
There were two cells. One was open and empty. The other—the one where he’d been locked up—was closed. He tried to focus, but everything was blurred. Finally, he managed to get his hand on the door panel. Nothing happened. He banged on it and still nothing happened.
“Balls.” She’d locked him out. Then his heart rate spiked. Or had someone gotten to her?
Suddenly, the door in front of him slid open. And there she was. Sitting in bed. He peered closer. Everything was slowly rotating. “You locked me out,” he said, swaying slightly as though in a breeze.
“No, actually, I locked out anyone who might be trying to murder me.”
“I’m not trying to murder you. You left me with a vampire.”
“I told you, he won’t touch you now.”
“My protector.”
He lurched inside the room, and the door slid closed behind him. He took that as a positive sign. He didn’t say anything else—he had an idea nothing of any sense would come out of his mouth right now. She sat watching as he stripped off his clothes.
“What are you doing, Logan?”
Wasn’t it obvious? He finished taking off his pants…slowly. Otherwise, he was likely to trip and brain himself. She was still watching him through narrowed eyes, tapping her fingers on her sheet-covered thigh. What was the question?
“I just had to come and tell you—” He hesitated. What could he say? “That I like cats,” he mumbled.
She shook her head, but a small smile flickered across her lips. She held up the sheet, and he crawled underneath. He wrapped his arms around her, and the world stopped spinning.
He felt…safe.
And within seconds, he was asleep.
…
Katia lay with her eyes closed. He was sprawled half across her, heavy, but she didn’t move him. Instead, she shifted on the bed so she could wrap her arms around him, burrow her nose against his skin. He was warm and smelled of clean sweat and hot man, mixed with the sweetness of whiskey. His chest rose and fell beneath her, and the steady thud of his heart soothed her agitated thoughts.
Since she’d left him, she’d been desperately fighting the urge to go back and…she wasn’t sure what. She was scared by how much she needed his…again, no clue. Acceptance maybe. That’s what had held her in place. Fear. What if he couldn’t accept what she was?
But—aw—he liked cats.
It was enough for now.
Chapter Twenty-Two
She woke and lay with her eyes closed. She was warm and cozy and vaguely…happy.
Was she crazy? How could she possibly contemplate happiness considering the total mess they were in? Someone with the ability to blow up spaceships was wandering around on the loose, blowing up spaceships and killing thousands. Whoever it was, they clearly had no conscience.
A sociopath.
But she’d lived to fight another day. No one had killed her in the night.
Unless she was dead and this was…heaven or hell?
Logan spooned her from behind, one hand around her, clasping her breast through the material of the T-shirt she’d slept in. From the sound of his breathing, he was deep asleep. Or passed out cold. He’d been pretty far gone when he came to her.
She slipped out of bed, stopping midway as he rolled onto his back. But he didn’t wake, and she was glad. She felt good right now, and she didn’t want that to change just yet. She’d learned a long time ago to accept and enjoy the good times when they occurred. And she had no clue how he would feel when he woke up. Would he even remember what he had said last night?
He liked cats.
The memory made her smile.
God, he’d been drunk.
She stood by the side of the bed, staring down at him. He was lying on his back, snoring softly. In sleep, the lines on his face smoothed out and he appeared younger. And without the purple eyes to distract, he looked more masculine, pure male, all harsh lines, a big beaky nose, nice lips. And he knew how to use them.
He showed no sign of waking up as she dressed quietly and let herself out of the cell. Time to earn her keep and solve this case—too much time had been wasted over people trying to kill her. She had a few notes she wanted to make. So after a quick visit to the galley, she was heading to the conference room to update her whiteboard.
She pressed the panel to open the door and almost jumped when Adam Murray straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the wall opposite. Adam was one of Rico’s wolves, though not too high up in the pack. Rico kept a few of them for protection. She’d been part of that for a while, after she’d first met the vampire. He’d offered her a safe place, which she hadn’t had for a long time. All he’d asked in return was the occasional blood donation and her absolute obedience. It had been a little enough price to pay. Without that time, she doubted she would have survived. She’d been such a baby, had no clue about anything—her old master, the werejaguar who had changed her, had kept her a virtual prisoner.
Until she’d killed him.
“What the hell are you doing lurking out here?” she asked.
“Och, aye, you’re pleased to see me, really.” He grinned. “I’m here because I’m your new babysitter.”
“You’re kidding me?” She didn’t need a babysitter. So she might have nearly died three times in little more than three days, but she could look after herself. Okay, maybe the third time had come a little close. But the last thing she needed was a goddamn horny werewolf dogging her footsteps.
She glanced back at the closed door. “Maybe you’d better stay here and guard Logan.”
“Your boyfriend?”
She frowned. “You’ve met him?”
“Aye. Last night. Plays a mean hand of poker but can’t hold his liquor.”
She didn’t know whether it was good or bad that Rico was letting Logan meet the others. It could mean he’d decided Logan could be trusted. Or it could mean that he’d decided to resolve the problem once the investigation was over and neither she nor Logan were of any further use. She sort of trusted him not to go back on his word, but there were other ways to render a problem not a problem without actually killing him. He might put him back into cryo, and she was beginning to think that was as good as a death sentence. If they went back to sleep now, then they would never wake up. The systems would eventually shut down and everyone would die—the ships would be huge graveyards carrying the last dead remains of humanity.
“He’s safe in the brig,” Adam said. “We’re monitoring the surveillance cameras. All the cells have them.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You watched us sleep?”
“Yeah, pretty boring. I headed over as soon as you woke. Left Dylan watching sleeping beauty in there. Nice underwear, by the way.”
She snarled, and he grinned and stepped back, held out a paper bag he’d been hiding at his side. “Here,” he said, holding it out at arm’s length as if she might bite. “Peace offering.”
She took the bag and peered inside. It contained two chocolate muffins, and the warm sweet smell filled her nostrils. Her stomach rumbled.
“And coffee,” he said, holding out the cardboard mug in his other hand.
She bit into a chocolate muffin, closed her eyes as she chewed, swallowed. “Okay,” she said grudgingly. “You can stick around.”
Adam sat at the table and watched her as she stared at the board, trying to think of something useful to add. She checked her comm unit, just in case someone had decided to send some of the information she’d asked for, despite the investigation being officially closed. But nothing.
Hopefully, she could fill in more information for the Trakis Seven after they visited the ship today. Something occurred to her, then, and she turned to Adam.
“Are you coming to the party?” she asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Dylan’s been brushing off his tux.”
She grinned. Dylan was the pack alpha, a total badass, but he’d been a rich city stockbroker before he was changed.
“We’d been banned,” Adam continued. “Rico doesn’t believe that we can behave in a sufficiently civilized manner, but obviously, keeping darling Katia and her new boyfriend safe overrides any social gaffs we might make.”
“You want to go?”
“Och aye. Things can get a bit samey around here.”
“How long have you been awake?” she asked.
“Fifty years, give or take a few. I trained as tech support when the last guy decided he’d had enough and wanted to go back to sleep. Fae—absolute pussy. No disrespect.”
She snorted. “None taken.” She wasn’t too keen on the fae herself.
“By the way, Rico said he’d sorted you out a dress for the party. Your boyfriend is to go in uniform—look the part, give us an official appearance.”
She didn’t want to think where Rico had gotten a party dress—was he raiding the cryotubes? The man had no morals.
She took a step back and examined her board. Considering she’d been awake for four days, she’d managed to gather very little information. All they really had was the crew connection, and that was tentative. But then, she had been expending an awful lot of energy just staying alive.
With that thought, she swiped the board to a new page. Down one side she wrote, “autopilot malfunction,” “Trakis Three exploding,” and finally, “poison gas.” Next to them she wrote down the possibility of remote activity resulting in the occurrence. She’d gone through Sardi’s notes last night in bed. It had been interesting reading—at least for someone trying to work out who had tried to kill her, three times. The answers as far as she could tell—and she’d check with Sardi—were “no,” “yes,” and “no clue.”
The autopilot could only have been tampered with from on the shuttle. That reminded her—they’d asked that question of Jake, the tech guy on the Trakis One. And as far as she was aware, he’d never gotten back to them. She made a note to chase him up and find out why. That also reminded her of something else—hadn’t his supervisor told them that Jake had family on the Trakis Three? Poor man. Maybe he was in mourning.
From her understanding, while someone could have redirected the shuttle remotely, no way should they have been able to stop the people on board from switching to manual control. It just didn’t have that functionality. So they must have actually been on board. But that didn’t narrow things down much. Pryce had programmed the shuttle. Layla had been on board, waiting to talk to Logan, if she remembered rightly. Neither seemed a likely suspect. But the docking bay on the Trakis One was not a restricted area—anyone could have entered the shuttle. She made a note in her file to ask Pryce for any surveillance footage for the time she’d been on the Trakis One. If she could work out a good reason why she wanted the information when the case was supposedly closed.
Apparently, the explosion on the Trakis Three could have been remote detonated. By a number of means. The easiest would be if there was some sort of explosive device strategically placed on the ship, say in the main engine rooms.
But even more worrying, apparently no explosive device would have been necessary if the person knew what they were doing and had access to the Trakis One’s systems. The Trakis One had the ability to monitor and also change the running modes of all the ships. If they overrode the Trakis Three’s own systems, they could input code to make the engines overwork and eventually implode, leading to a chain reaction that could blow up the whole ship. Which reflected what they had seen. That narrowed it down to anyone on the Trakis One. Again. They were going to have to pay a visit there next, and she felt strangely reluctant.
There would be some trace of activity on the Trakis One logs. And, of course, the incoming code would have been recorded on the Trakis Three logs, but that was hardly of any help right now, with the ship in a million pieces.
Finally, the poison. She hated that more than the other two near-death experiences. It was so out of her control. She couldn’t fight back; she’d just gone under. They had no clue what had been used—though Rico had the science officer analyzing everything from the cabin hoping to find some trace—or how it had been introduced. Nothing. She couldn’t see how anything could have been introduced remotely, but Sardi had suggested that the air cleaning systems could have been messed with from the Trakis One.
It all came back to the Trakis One. But who on board would have any reason to commit murder?
It didn’t make sense.
She needed more food.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The shuttle was only built for four, and there were five of them. It probably wouldn’t even get off the ground—if they were lucky.
Dylan was flying, so he got the pilot’s seat. Adam had grabbed the chair next to him. Layla stood staring at the empty seats for a moment. “This is against protocol,” she muttered. “Only four passengers per shuttle.”
“Would you like to stay behind?” Dylan asked.
