it out, it stung like a bitch. “That blue lady needs a serious manicure.”
He hopped up, loomed over me and released my fancy seat belt. Taking my hand, he led me out of the cockpit and into an ancillary room. I looked around. The craft reminded me of a corporate jet although round and ridiculously fast. In space and not between Omaha and Miami. It was fine for one person, cozy for two. Painful for more than that. There was a tiny bed, unmade, a table the size of a cookie sheet and a bunch of wall cabinets.
He pushed me, so I sat on the bed and opened one of the cabinets, pulling out a wand of some kind. A blue light came on, and he waved it over my arm. The pain receded within seconds.
“What is that thing?” I asked, staring at it then up at him, realizing his face was inches from mine. How had I missed his five o’clock shadow before?
“ReGen wand. Better?”
I nodded.
He turned to the wall again and punched some buttons on what looked like a strange microwave. He looked to me, studied me, then back to the machine. He opened a little door and pulled out some folded clothes. “Here. I hope these fit. I guessed.”
I stared at the offering in his hands. “You cooked clothes?”
He frowned then shrugged. “Of course. The S-Gen machine will make whatever you need. How do you get clothes on Earth?”
“I order them online. Or go to the mall.”
He frowned some more. “I don’t know this mall.”
I took the items he held, set them on the bed. A black pair of pants and top. I stood up to change, but he just stood there. Stared. I spun my finger in a circle. “Privacy?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Not much of that on this craft.” Still, he turned around, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.
“Shouldn’t someone be flying this thing?” I asked, tugging off my bloodstained shirt and staring at my arm where Ulza had grabbed me. There was blood but no cut. That wand-thing had healed me. Amazing.
“Automated,” he said. “We’re good in this area of space. Want to tell me why Cerberus is after you?”
I frowned at his back then slipped the shirt on. It was soft and looser than the drab outfit I’d been given on Trion. I wasn’t sure if there were bras in space, but I was thankful I wasn’t well endowed because I wasn’t going to ask Isaak to make me one for my B cups.
“I don’t even know who Cerberus is,” I replied. “I told you, I was matched to Trion, and my mate was murdered.”
I shucked the old pants, donned the new ones. Without panties.
“You said Bertok killed him.” He hadn’t moved while I changed.
“That’s right. At first, I thought he did it because he wanted me for himself. That guy doesn’t have high regard for women,” I grumbled.
I heard Isaak’s laugh. “Women on Trion are to be cherished and revered. And submissive.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Well, I think the testing was wrong then,” I told him. “I’m far from submissive.” I figured Isaak had probably already realized that after our crazy getaway. “Got any shoes?”
He turned, looked down at my bare feet, then slowly worked up my body. I felt that stare as if it were a caress.
A funny sound escaped his lips as he turned back to the magical machine. Within seconds, he handed me socks and sturdy boots like his own.
My eyes widened, and I couldn’t help but stare. “Wow. Thanks.” I dropped back onto the bed, put them on. “What about you, space pirate?” I asked, tugging up a sock.
“What about me?”
I glanced up at him. “Why were you under the dome?”
“I kill Hive, take their integrations and sell them.”
“Why?”
His broad shoulders went up in a quick shrug. “Credits. Why else?”
“Yet you’re from Trion.”
“And you’re from Earth.”
I pursed my lips, looked away and put on the other sock.
“Got a space mansion somewhere?” I asked. “A secret hideaway? Bat cave?”
“You’re riding in it.”
I sat up, looked around. It wasn’t fancy, that was for sure. But it had definitely done the job and got us off that hell hole. I wasn’t going to complain. Since it was my first spaceship, I had nothing to compare it to.
“You mentioned something about Ulza, the wicked witch of the west—although she’s blue instead of green—taking credits back?”