Malfunction, page 22
Three cryotubes were lined up in the room.
“We decided that was the best method to preserve the bodies—the tubes are set to below freezing so decomposition has been halted—in case anyone wanted to carry out an autopsy. Though it’s pretty obvious what killed them.” He moved to the closest tube and pressed the keypad to open the lid. There was no stench of decay, and Katia stepped closer, Logan at her shoulder.
She did a quick review of the body. It was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. The skin was bluish except on the face, which was almost black, the eyes open, staring into nothingness. And the fingers were blackened with dried blood where the man—she presumed this was Jason Brodie, who’d been twenty-eight when he’d gone into his cryotube—had obviously clawed to get out.
There was nothing new to tell from the body, nothing to say why he had died or who had orchestrated that death.
But there was the crew connection. That was something to work with.
She moved on to the next tube. Logan was standing over it, hands in his pockets. He glanced at her as she came to stand beside him, a smile curving his lips. He nodded toward the cryotube and corpse number two. “You see anything wrong with this picture?” he asked.
She turned her attention to the body in the cryotube. It appeared similar to the first, and she searched for whatever it was had put that smile on his face. The hair was a deep brown and short. It was hard to make out the features; they were contorted in death.
Callum had come to stand on the other side of her. “If that’s Susan Brodie, then I’m a ten-year-old girl.”
“Shit,” she muttered. He was right. Her brain wasn’t working. She flicked through her folder to where she’d written the names on the victims, checked against the number on the cryotube. “Yup. This should be ten-year-old Susan Brodie.” It looked like an adult male, at least six foot tall. Interesting. “Could they have mixed up the bodies?”
Though the last body should have belonged to Susan’s twelve-year-old sister.
They moved as one to the final cryotube. Callum keyed in the code to open it, and she studied the body. Another adult male from the looks of things. So what was going on? It was fair to say that this was not the crew family it was supposed to be.
She turned to Callum. “How likely that your records are screwed up?”
“I’d say unlikely. It’s not complicated. One number, one name.”
She could see his point. She remembered the loading procedures when she had gone on board the Trakis Two. Everything had been checked and rechecked. The cryotubes were actually programmed to match the individual’s DNA so there could be no mistakes. Who were these people?
“Do you have any more crew families on board?” Logan asked.
She had an idea Logan’s brain was working a damn sight better than hers at the moment. It was a good question.
Callum nodded as if he, too, understood the significance of the question. He pressed his comm unit, and the screen appeared in front of him. He swiped through the data, found what he was looking for. “Let’s go see.”
They followed him out and down the corridor and into the cryotube storage area, which appeared identical to the one on the Trakis Two. Callum led them through the rows of tubes, seemingly endless sleeping bodies. He finally came to a halt. “These three are the family of a technician in the fourth rotation on the Trakis Five. It should be his wife, a brother, and his young son.” According to the records, he was five years old. Katia stepped closer so she could see through the glass. A woman, probably in her thirties. She shifted to the next tube. A man. How were they to tell if they were who they were supposed to be? But then she moved to the final tube, which should have contained the boy. She grinned at Logan. “Bingo again.” The cryotube held an adult male, certainly not a young child. “Looks like we have a pattern.”
“But why?” Logan said. He was rubbing his scalp as though he could miraculously make his brain give up the answer. “Who are these people?”
“And, more importantly, where are the people who should be here?” Long dead, she was guessing. Christ, she knew better than anyone that it was possible to change the Chosen Ones. Rico had done it with over half the people on the Trakis Two. It wasn’t easy, but it could be done. It looked like the victims were all crew families. Or at least she was guessing they were from the groups of threes.
“There was talk about the lottery being rigged,” Callum said. “For years before we left Earth, the rumors were going around. It was said that the places were filled before they even started the lottery process. Max always denied it, but I wouldn’t have put anything past the old bastard.”
By Max, he had to mean Max Beauchamp, president of the Federation of Nations. He didn’t sound as if he liked the man. “Wasn’t he going to be your father-in-law?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed, then he grinned. “And one of the reasons I decided that it was not in my best interests to marry Tamara.”
“Only one of the reasons?”
“There were a few more.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“Maybe someone got greedy,” Logan put in. “The Chosen Ones’ places had already been sold off to the highest bidder.”
“But what would anyone do with money where we were going? Why get more?”
“Money isn’t the only commodity,” Callum said. “Maybe they offered other things. The promise of support in the new world, perhaps.”
“So no more Chosen Ones places for sale. What was left?”
“The crew family tubes. Balls. A brave new fucking world, all right.” Logan sounded totally pissed off. She decided to stay quiet; she didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on, having paid for her own place on the Trakis Two with a combination of money and the promise to support Rico by whatever means necessary when, or if, they arrived at their destination.
“It’s all supposition right now,” was all she said. “We still have no clue who was responsible.”
“But we do have an idea of where to look next. You said it yourself—the first victims of a serial killer are usually connected to the killer. How about our murderer somehow discovered that their family wasn’t where they were supposed to be? That, instead, they’d been replaced by someone else and were long dead?”
“So they decided to take a little revenge.”
Logan grinned. “All we have to do to catch our killer is discover which active crew members had family on board the Trakis Three.”
“Sounds too easy.”
“Not if all the records went up with the ship.”
There was that. “But we do know one person who had family on the Trakis Three,” she said. “Jake, the tech guy.” And the more she thought about it, the more the idea made sense. “Who better to mess with the central database?”
Callum’s comm beeped, and he read something on the screen. “We need to go to a party.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Logan wanted to get back to the Trakis One and do a bit of digging into Jake, somehow get access to the backup files for the Trakis One.
Instead, he had to go to a goddamn party.
It was taking place on the bridge of the Trakis Seven and appeared to be in full swing by the time they stepped through the doors. There must have been about fifty people present, presumably most of the crew of the Trakis Seven plus a maximum of four people from each of the other ships. He looked around to see if he recognized anyone—Jake, maybe—and caught sight of Pryce standing close to Layla. They were talking intently, but then Layla turned around and stalked away. Clearly, she wasn’t happy with whatever he’d said. Chatting her up most likely. The old lech.
Callum nodded to them. “I’ll send you the crew information for the ship—who has family and where. Now, enjoy the party. We’ll talk afterward.”
Katia had been quiet since they’d left the cryotube storage area. Was she thinking about her own situation?
Is that what had happened? Someone had sold the cryotubes to the highest bidder and jettisoned the original owners. The family of the crew members. But who would have the access to do that?
Though Rico had done it on the Trakis Two. How?
“How did Rico manage it?” he asked Katia.
She glanced at him; she’d been watching the party. All the pretty people. Actually, most of them looked a little on the doddery side. “Manage what?” she asked.
“Replacing the Chosen Ones. It can’t have been easy. He must have had someone on the inside. Otherwise, it could never have worked.” She wrinkled her nose as she no doubt considered whether to tell him or not. He could see in her eyes that she knew the answer to his question. “Come on, Katia. It might give me some insight into what we’re looking at.”
She gave a small shrug. “I already told you all I know. He bribed the captain of the Trakis Two, turned him into a vampire, and he said it was the worst thing he had ever done.”
That meant it was pretty fucking bad. “Anything else? Even the captain couldn’t have done it alone.”
“All I know is the money we paid for our places went in bribes to various people. Rico could probably tell you more. I wasn’t involved in that side of things.” She peered around the room. “Come on, let’s go find something to eat. I’m starving.”
He supposed she had gone a long time without food. Probably a record for her. “Over there,” he said, spotting a long table that had been set up with food along the edge of the room. Placing his hand on the small of her back—he almost expected her to brush him off—he ushered her through the crowd. He liked touching her, could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin silk of the dress. What was she wearing underneath? Not a lot, at a guess. He was filled with an overwhelming urge to take her somewhere away from all the people and find out. But maybe he’d better feed her first.
He was aware of a lot of people’s interest as they passed. Most of the men were in their crew dress uniforms, but many of the women, like Katia, wore dresses. His military uniform gave him away as someone apart. No doubt Pryce had spread the word that they’d been woken up to head up the investigation. No one tried to talk to them.
There seemed an air of…he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe desperation. Like fiddling while the Titanic went down. And he could almost smell fear on the air. Were they worried that the ship might explode around them before it got a chance to fall apart on them first? They were too shrill, too bright.
They came to a halt in front of the food. It looked okay. Probably rations for a month. But did that matter at this point?
Katia piled up a plate, but Logan wasn’t hungry. Not for food, anyway. He was filled with a feeling that his time was running out.
Spotting an empty chair, he pointed her in that direction then stood over her as she concentrated on the food. If he remembered rightly, from this vantage point, he could see right down the front of her dress, to the creamy, freckled skin of her breasts. His dick twitched. He was fed up with people; he’d never been a party person, anyway. He glanced around and found Dylan and Adam across the room, leaning against the wall, both their gazes fixed on him and Katia. Doing their bodyguarding thing. What were the chances of slipping away and getting some alone time? He wanted to talk to her even more than he wanted to fuck her. Okay, maybe it was equal.
As he turned his attention back to Katia, Layla came to a halt beside them and cleared her throat. He sighed, tore his gaze away. Layla appeared a little peeved, her lips tight, her brows drawn together. Her “nice” image seemed to be slipping a little. Maybe she was missing Rico. “What did Callum want to talk to you about?” she asked without preamble.
Katia’s mouth was full, so he answered. “He just wanted an update on the investigation.”
“Why would he want an update? The investigation is closed.” Her frown deepened. “The Trakis One sent out a comm yesterday. Everyone knows that. A terrorist blew up the Trakis Three, and he died in the explosion.”
“Very convenient,” Katia muttered between mouthfuls.
“And that’s exactly what we told Callum,” Logan said soothingly. Why was she so worked up about this? Why did she care? Though she’d nearly died in the explosion that had destroyed the Trakis Three. Maybe she needed a rational answer. To close off the episode, to make herself believe it wouldn’t happen again.
She studied them for a moment longer then whirled around and stalked away. She crossed the room, halted beside Pryce, and leaned in close to talk to him. Pryce looked their way, a scowl on his face.
“I don’t think she likes you anymore,” Katia murmured.
“Good.” He couldn’t resist touching her any longer. He stroked a finger across her shoulder, felt a shiver run through her skin, and she stared up into his face, heat flaring in her eyes.
Some of his tension relaxed. He had been in no way sure. But she wanted him; he could see it in her eyes. And hell, she could have him. He just wasn’t sure how he could make it happen. He leaned in closer. “How the fuck do we get out of here? I need to get you alone. Badly. How are we going to slip our babysitters?”
“It won’t be easy.”
But at that moment, the lights flickered and died. At the same time, the screens around the walls went blank, leaving the room in absolute darkness. The sound of raised voices assaulted his ears, but most people stayed calm. “Sorry, ladies and gentleman,” a voice came over the comm system. “Please stay where you are. This is a minor malfunction and will be fixed shortly.”
Katia’s hand slipped into his, and she got to her feet beside him.
“Divine intervention,” she said, and her breath feathered against his skin. He couldn’t see a thing, but he didn’t care if he had to trample over the whole party. This was an opportunity he wasn’t going to miss.
“Just don’t trip over anything and knock yourself out,” he said. “I really want you conscious.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Luckily, I have cat’s eyes,” she whispered. “I can see in the dark.” Her fingers tightened on his hand, and she tugged him along. He gave himself into her care and kept his body close against hers. They didn’t crash into anything or anyone, and he sensed as they left the bridge. Katia increased their speed, and he stretched out a hand and touched the cool curved wall. Then the lights flickered on, and they went even faster, almost running. He glanced back over his shoulder, but the corridor behind them was empty.
Dylan was going to be pissed, and he laughed.
She glanced at him, but he just sped up. He had an idea where they were heading. They didn’t want to go anywhere they had been before, as that would be the first place someone would look for them. But the ships were all designed the same. So up this corridor and a left turn and then a right and they were at one of the small meeting rooms. He pressed his palm to the panel and the door slid open.
He didn’t know how much time he had, but he wasn’t wasting a second of it.
As the door slid closed behind them, he spun her around in his arms, lowered his head, and kissed her.
They could talk later.
…
They were so on the same wavelength.
Katia sank into the kiss, parting her lips. His tongue thrust inside, filling her, and heat flowed through her veins. This felt so right. All day, she’d been looking at him, wanting him. That he’d clearly felt the same released some of her inner tension. He knew her deepest secrets, and he still wanted her.
He pushed her back until she hit the wall behind her then deepened the kiss, and she twined her hands around his neck, dragging him closer. Finally, he raised his head.
“Apologies up front because this is going to be fast. I have the strangest feeling we’re going to be interrupted any moment now.”
“Well, you’re wasting time talking, then.”
He grinned. “I’ve been studying this dress for hours,” he said. “And I think all I need to do is…” Slipping his hand around the back of her neck, he tugged at the bow. It unraveled. He stepped back to put a little space between them, and the dress fell to the floor in a pool of silk at her feet.
“Christ,” he murmured. “You are so goddamn beautiful.” His hand skimmed down over her shoulder to cup her breast, and her nipple hardened, heat sinking into her belly, settling in her sex. She was hot and swollen with need, and she wanted him. She didn’t care how fast as long as it was now.
He scraped a thumb over her swollen nipple, and every cell tingled. Then he slid his hand lower, over her stomach, pushing inside the tiny black panties that were all she wore. She held her breath as his fingers slid between her thighs, her whole body jolting with the force of her reaction as he found the swollen bud at her core, playing over it lightly with his fingertip. Then lower, sinking inside her.
“You are so wet.”
He pressed up inside her, and a pulse started a steady throb between her legs, everything so sensitive, he’d only have to stroke her again, just there, and she’d be flying. Instead, he withdrew his hand, and she almost screamed.
He pushed her panties down her thighs, and she was naked and more than ready. Maybe she needed to move things on. They were on a schedule here. Reaching out, she unfastened the buttons on his uniform jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it, and it fell to the floor. She examined him for a moment, her gaze snagging on the impressive bulge in his pants. She trailed her hand over his stomach to the waistband. Holding his dark gaze, she tugged open the belt, fumbled with the button. He was breathing hard—she liked that—as she slipped her hand inside, wrapped it around his erection. Hot and silky smooth and so goddamn big.
As he stepped back, she released her hold reluctantly. His hands gripped her ass, and he lifted her, backing her against the wall, balancing her there with one hand while he shoved his pants down with the other. He parted her thighs, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, felt him position himself. She took a deep breath as he pushed inside, filling her with one hard lunge. For a second, they remained motionless, simply enjoying the sensation, so much power held in check. It felt like coming home. Like where she belonged. Like the best freaking feeling in the world, and it would make everything worthwhile if only she could have this.
