Thief (36 page)

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Authors: Anitra Lynn McLeod

BOOK: Thief
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“You seem to forget we pulled your butt out too.” Jace didn’t sound defensive, only determined to remind her of the truth. If nothing else, he wasn’t going to let her belittle his accomplishments.

“No, I’m not forgetting that. I give credit where credit is due. I owe you for saving my life. Twice over, I think. Means I’m one up on you.”

“Tit for tat.”

“An interesting turn of phrase.”

“What do I owe you?”

Caught off guard, Kraft asked, “For what?”

“The IWOG attack ship, the bonafides.”

“A hundred and fifty.”

“K?”

“No. Flat. That’s a tenth of what you paid Trickster for me, right?”

Jace counted it out, tossing fives and tens to the battered table in her new bedroom. “I guess this squares us.”

“I guess it does.”

“I’d appreciate it if, before you left, you’d keep your word to Heller.”

Jace just confirmed he’d been eavesdropping on her conversation with Heller. “I will.”

“Good night then, Kraft.”

“Good night, Captain Lawless.”

He walked away with his head held high and she had to admire his spirit. She’d kicked him, hard, again and again, but he just wouldn’t stay down.

“He’s stronger now than he was before, and he’s better off without me.” Kraft pondered that for a moment. “Then why do I feel like crap?”

She stood, slapped the com to close her door and considered the money on the table. A money belt with over 500K and a measly, scattered pile of one hundred and fifty flat.

One was so tainted she didn’t dare touch it with her bare fingertips. The other? Well, both were tainted but the smaller pile less so. She slipped the one fifty flat into her pocket before she felt the full impression from it. Even in the quick flash, pain filled her. Jace had shelled it out willingly enough but he gave it to her, reluctantly, for he didn’t agree with her assessment of their affair.

The word turned over in her mind.

Affair?

Why did that strike her with such curiosity?

So what if he called it an affair? What would she call it? Courting? Kraft rolled her eyes. A minor interlude. A dance that went fast and slow but ultimately ended.

“And so I set the tune for a new dance.”

She checked her possessions. She wore Jace’s shirt, his trousers, Bailey’s boots, her own blades. One fifty flat barely made a lump in her pocket.

“Got everything I need.”

She looked around the room again. A mirror image of the room next door, her bedroom turned prison, where Heller had been kept.

“For mutiny or for turning on me?”

She wondered. It didn’t really matter why. Heller did what he did and it all turned out for the best.

“I’m still alive.”

Kraft laughed.

“Barely. But still.”

She looked at the money belt again and sighed. She really should leave some kind of note. Take a stab at explaining.

“And just what would I say? Here’s a bunch of script. Take it and buy yourselves whatever kind of life you want, because I’m happy that I still have feet.” She wiggled her toes in Bailey’s old boots. They were a shade too tight but she hadn’t stressed her toe leather too much.

She’d done what she said she would. Call it delusions of grandeur but she didn’t lie about her abilities. “The IWOG crafted me into an incredible weapon. Thanks to them that’s all I’ll ever be.” She looked at the money belt again.

“Script opens wide the doors to the hell on any port city.”

If she flashed the money belt around, she’d be whisked to the big table so fast her head would damn near fall off, no matter what she wore or even if her picture hung behind the bar riddled with darts. Lots of script made everyone sit up and play nice.

But that would be too easy.

Kraft would take the one fifty flat and go from there. Let Jace and his crew take the other. They would need that kind of script to upgrade the ship. If she did nothing else, she should at least tell them what they should get to upgrade
Mutiny
.


Prospect
.” She corrected. She’d thought it odd anyone would name a ship
Mutiny
and when she’d been under pressure to craft a new name, she’d plucked
Prospect
out of the air. It was far better than
Mutiny
. More so in that mutiny had been committed aboard
Mutiny
. “
Prospect
is at least more hopeful.”

So what would she name her new ship?


Dismal
.”

For that’s how she felt. She’d lied when she told Jace she didn’t love him when she did. Told him she was dead in the Void when she wasn’t. She’d not been willing to tell him or his crew the truth because she was safer if she didn’t. He couldn’t ever be in the position to rat her out if he didn’t know, nor could his crew. When Kraft had saved Parkhill, she’d made the same call.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jace, it was just safer if she disappeared and started over yet again. A new name, a new ship, perhaps as a cook—

She shook her head as she made her way to the bridge of
Prospect
. She’d enjoyed being a cook again while on Jace’s ship. And too, she’d enjoyed passing along her recipes. Maybe she’d take her one fifty, wager it up and start an underground cooking school.

She laughed. Given her druthers, she’d rather teach every soul in the Void to cook rather than teach even one more soul to fight. Still laughing to herself, she entered the bridge.

“Having a good time?” Jace sat in the pilot chair. He didn’t turn to look at her.

“I thought Bailey was on duty.”

“I gave him the night off for good behavior.” Jace turned and faced her as she stood in the doorway. “Let me guess.” He put his fingertips to his forehead, closed his eyes and hummed. “You are here, to…” He shook his head as if reading the vapors. “You are here to tell me how to live high off the hog in the IWOG world.”

Kraft clapped slowly but precisely. “Very good.”

Jace bowed while sitting.

“Do you do kids’ parties?” As soon as she said it she realized how cutting those words were.

“Not since my three were killed.” Jace yanked the chair around and faced the console. “Spit it out, Kraft, whatever it is.” His back, cold and unconcerned, cut her in a way she was not prepared for.

“Upgrade your ship. Your console, including your sensors, fore and aft, need a good twenty year upgrade. So does your engine. Put in more responsive engine controls for your pilot. It’s ridiculous to expect Garrett or Heller to fill in for what Bailey should be able to access from the bridge.” Even though she’d installed a small Tasher unit, she suggested putting in a full Tasher drive.

“Excellent idea.” Jace nodded. “I’ll do that as soon as we hit Borealis.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted to tell Bailey.”

“I’m sure he’ll pass it along to his next captain.”

“What?”

“He’s not staying with me. He knows he can do bigger and better elsewhere.” Jace swiveled the chair so that he faced her. “He wants to make a play for your ship.” Jace laughed. “Bailey, Bailey.”

“You think I aim to steal him from you?”

“No, I think Bailey is one step from having his heart stomped. Lucky me, I get to watch you do it.” Jace glared at her. “Bailey doesn’t suspect a thing.”

Kraft stiffened. “I’m not after your crew. If Bailey has some grand plan to follow me, he’ll be disappointed.”

“I know that, and you know that, but Bailey doesn’t. We know that he’ll be disappointed as hell, because as soon as we hit port, you’ll disappear.”

Kraft laughed. “Any reason I should stick around?” Jace didn’t react. “I didn’t think so.”

“Try real hard not to crush him.”

“Bailey?”

“Poor boy.”

“No, he’s not. He won’t follow me, Heller will. And perhaps you.”

“No, not me. I don’t care anymore, Kraft.” Jace turned his back on her. “Go kill yourself. That’s your goal, isn’t it?”

“Fuck you.”

“Such vulgar language for a lady.” Jace laughed while eyeing her reflection in the bridge window. “Besides, by my recollection, you’ve already done that.”

The next morning, Kraft taught Payton how to make omelets. Payton was easy to teach and did everything with neat, quick, medical precision. “You’re a natural.”

“I learned a bit of cooking, back on Gilgamesh.”

Kraft nodded. “Before you ran from your abusive IWOG husband.”

Payton almost dropped the spatula. “Jace told you.”

“No.”

“Then how?”

“I’m a reader, Payton.”

“I thought that was just a myth.”

“Readers are real. When I first came on board, I knew then. I know what you’ve been running from, what you’ve protected Charissa from.”

“Jace has protected us both.” Payton said as she worked at the stove. “He’s a good man who would-”

“You don’t have to worry anymore.” Kraft did not want to talk about how good Jace was as both a captain and a friend. “Your husband won’t look for you anymore, Payton. You’re safer now than you’ve ever been. So is Charissa.”

“Thank—”

“Please don’t thank me for giving you a life in the dark. I don’t think I can bear it right now.” Kraft turned away and buttered toast. “I really don’t know if I’ve done any of you any favors by doing what I’ve done.”

“Regardless, you want no thanks for it.” Payton’s voice was surprisingly calm.

“No. I don’t.”

“Because you might have to thank us too.”

“I do thank you, Payton. You saved my life, and for that I am truly grateful.”

“But I can’t be grateful in turn.”

“Like I said, I don’t know if I’ve really done you any favors.”

Jace came in, took one look at her and left.

“Well, that was odd.” Payton flipped one of the omelets. “He must have forgotten something.”

“His memory works fine. I do believe he’ll be avoiding me on this last day.”

Payton considered her then the empty doorway. “Will you be teaching him how to cook something?”

“Oh, I think I’ve taught him quite enough.”

Payton called everyone to breakfast, and Kraft was relieved she didn’t have to sit next to Jace. As if reading her mind, he came in and sat, as close as he could, on the little bench. Mashing into her side, Jace let loose a deep breath that tickled her neck.

“Isn’t this cozy?” he whispered.

Kraft flushed with pleasure, but shook it off by intently slathering jelly on her toast.

“It’s wonderful, Payton,” Garrett said.

“Thank you. And thank you for teaching me, Kraft.” Payton was all ripe pride in cooking for the object of her affection and the crew.

“You’re welcome,” Kraft offered.

“You’re teaching me that chicken thing for lunch?” Heller asked.

“Yes. And beer.”

“And what will you be teaching me?” Jace asked.

Her brain felt frozen, like it’d just been hit with a blast of liquid nitrogen. She took a bite of her toast to stall.

“One of us ought to learn how to make bread. That’s simple, right?” Charissa asked.

Kraft nodded.

“And a dessert,” Garrett said. “Someone should know how to make something loaded with sugar.”

“I think Kraft can teach me that, don’t you?” Jace asked, turning his head so he breathed the question right in her ear.

If she said no, it would just raise a bunch of awkward questions. But she still couldn’t find her voice. She nodded as she continued to chew on her bite of toast.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Heller shocked her by learning quickly. Kraft only had to walk him through making beer once and he had it down.

“You seem sorta surprised.” Heller scratched his head.

“It’s just that it’s complicated and most people don’t grasp it that fast.”

“I guess when you wanna learn, it helps you remember.”

He learned the hand trick and Kung Pao Chicken just as easily, and Kraft found she had a good time. She pushed the thought of leaving to the back of her brain.

“Can I talk to you, Bailey?”

“Sure.” He set the cards down and made room for her on the couch in the rec room. Expectation on his face fell to hurt when she sat down on the far end.

“Jace said you were planning to leave the ship.”

“Yeah, well, I was thinking you’d be in need of a pilot.” His pale blue eyes were bright with excitement.

“You can’t come with me, Bailey. I’m not like a circus you can run away to.”

He frowned at the archaic expression.

“It’s from Earth. When children fought with their parents, they would threaten to run away and join the circus.”

“I’m not a child!” His voice was shrill.

“No, you’re not,” Kraft said, keeping her voice calm. “But you still can’t come with me.”

“Is your ship going to be all women again?”

“I don’t know. But you belong here, Bailey.”

“Where I’m treated like a child.”

“Jace doesn’t treat you that way. And even though
Prospect
is going legitimate, he’ll still need a kick-ass pilot.”

“But I really like you.” Bailey tried to meet her gaze, but ended up looking at the floor.

“I know you do. I like you too. But not that way, Bailey.”

“Not the way you do Jace.” Bailey crossed his arms.

“No, not that way.”

Bailey crumpled up like a used tissue.

“You are sweet and funny and so talented it astounds me. I’m not sure what you do better, Bailey, fly this ship or play your guitar.”

He perked up a bit.

“I care about you a lot, an awful lot, but not in the way you want me to. I’m way too old for you. You deserve someone a lot less jaded than I am.”

“You can’t stop me from leaving.” He lifted his chin but kept his gaze on the floor.

“I know that. I can’t make you do anything. But I also know you’re smart enough to see the truth in what I’m saying. And even though you don’t like it, you know following me is only going to get you hurt.” Kraft sighed. “Or killed.”

Bailey stood. “Jace had it right, didn’t he? You’re trying to find a way to punish yourself and get yourself killed.” Bailey shook his head. “Why do you hate yourself so much when everyone on this ship likes you? Can all of us be wrong?”

Much to her dismay, Bailey forced her to reconsider her reasons for leaving.

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