“Nothing terrible has ever happened here,” I admitted. “But the orphanage is prepared for an invasion, an attack, whatever. Bullets don’t ricochet; it would take very heavy weapons to blow a hole in the wall; the entire place is a grid of fifty-meter zones with airtight safety doors that close automatically in case of depressurization. Stuff like that.”
We both lay back down rather than sit hunched over while we finished catching our breath. I reached out and touched the furry curve of Bonk’s back through the side mesh of Shade’s tightly strapped-on pack. Bonk didn’t stir, but I felt his little body move as he steadily drew in air.
“Like my uncle said, you’d have to nuke it to destroy it.”
Shade gazed at me. “Impressive. Sounds expensive.”
I shrugged. “Having a near monopoly on honey helps.” Currency didn’t buy medicine, though. It was where you lived and who you knew that counted for that.
“I hope kids don’t crawl around in these tunnels,” he said.
I’d probably spent a collective two months of my life in these tunnels—at least. “We do evac drills to the pod docks using the ventilation shafts.”
Shade looked incredulous. “You can’t just take the stairs?”
“What if there’s a fire? Or a depressurized zone cutting off a level? Or someone’s pumped noxious gas into the residential areas? You never know.” We were ready, because we took risks here. Not physical, but intellectual. Emotional. The thousands of children who grew up here were the seeds to every plant the Overseer didn’t want blossoming in his galaxy. So far, we’d stayed beneath his notice, germinating far and wide but without him grasping the connection. Partly, it seemed, thanks to Nathaniel Bridgebane.
“That’s why it’s always lighted through the ventilation system, even though it’s a power drain,” I added.
“Those vertical shafts are dangerous,” he insisted.
“Everyone knows not to take a tunnel if it smells like rose. Even a two-year-old would have avoided it.”
Shade hmphed. “I’ve never smelled a rose.”
“Well, sniff, learn it, and steer clear,” I said.
Shade inhaled through his nose. “Subtle. I’d hardly noticed it before. Smells good.”
I nodded. It did. “There’s a scent diffuser on the giant turbine ready to cut you to shreds.”
Cautiously, Shade lightly brushed a hand down my arm. “Thanks, starshine.”
I nodded, warmth licking through my belly.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, his brow creasing as he plucked at my shirt.
“Surral’s scrubs. She had to cut off my spacewalk undersuit to get at the bullet wound.”
Shade’s hand stopped moving on my arm. He stared at me. “You’re scaring the shit out of me right now. When did you get shot?”
“On the Squirrel Tree. Big man? Gun? Remember?”
“I remember,” he muttered. “I just didn’t know you got hit.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“So you decided to go on a spacewalk?”
“Well, someone had to get all those bugs off my ship before we left Sector 2.” I didn’t bother to curb the bite in my voice.
Shade had the decency to look guilty. “How many were there?” he asked.
“I found three.”
“Only one was mine.”
“Then it’s a good thing I dumped them,” I said.
“Did they track you?”
I nodded.
“But you got away?”
“Clearly.” I was here, wasn’t I?
“Do I want to hear about this?” he asked, sounding wary.
“Probably not.” But it warmed me that he cared.
“I’ll ask later.” Shade’s hand swept up my arm again and over my pink shoulder, the tips of his fingers teasing my neck. “Right now, I’m just glad you’re okay. And you look good enough to eat.”
I grimaced. “I look like candy.”
He smiled. “Like I said, good enough to eat.”
Before I even knew I was doing it, I smiled back. The heat in his honey-brown eyes made my belly flip.
I shivered when his fingertips skated over my collarbone. “How’s your leg?” I asked.
“Hurts like a bitch,” he answered. “And you pulling on it didn’t help.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Should I have dropped you?”
“Maybe,” he said a little wryly. “I’m not sure I’d have blamed you.”
The warmth I’d been feeling turned into something hot and unpleasant. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
Shade took a moment to answer. “Because my head really wanted two hundred million in universal currency, even if the rest of me didn’t agree.”
Something twisted in my chest. Painfully. “When did you decide?” Or even…had he?
He leaned forward and very slowly, very carefully, gently kissed my lips. “I would never have slept with you and then turned you in.”