He looked over at my entrance, his dark eyes seeming to swiftly scan for threats. Probably in his midforties, he was a ruggedly handsome black man. Short, curling hair was barely graying at his temples, but the grizzled streaks became more pronounced as they trailed down his thick, somewhat shaggy beard. The beard seemed neglected. It wasn’t neat and trim, as though he wanted it. It was bushy, as if it didn’t belong.
Just like the previous times I’d come into the lab, he watched me with neither hostility nor apprehension, but I couldn’t say he looked exactly friendly, either. More like he was reserving judgment.
Slowly, he lowered the vial he’d been inspecting, the movement drawing my eyes to the capped test tube in his hand. The liquid inside looked like blood.
“Where did you find that?” I asked. Between jumps, I’d searched the lab and seen nothing of interest besides the false vaccines in their prepared syringes.
He tilted his head toward one of the refrigerated units. “I just uncovered a whole tray of identical blood samples in there—under a false bottom.”
I wanted to blame the sudden dread surging inside me on the frantically wailing alarms, but it felt more like the panic of being forcibly strapped down, pricked with needles, and examined, inside and out.
My gaze darted back to the test tube. That label couldn’t possibly look familiar. Could it?
Swallowing, I held out my hand. “May I?”
He handed over the vial, and I turned it so that I could read the label. The bold-print Q.N. lunged out at me like a punch to the solar plexus.
“This was part of the lab?” My breathing shortened as I tore my eyes away from my own initials and Sector 12 citizen matriculation number.
The man crossed his arms over his massive chest. “An important part, considering how well it was hidden. Not many samples left.”
“You just said there was a whole tray.” I felt light-headed. My heart hammered.
“Ten vials, all labeled the same way. I didn’t find more of that same thing anywhere else.”
From his tone, I knew he’d looked hard—and maybe not just here in this lab.
Horror scraped through me as the word component stumbled out from somewhere deep in my memories of blurry-headed days in the Overseer’s lab—along with whispers of an enhancer. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I let my thoughts dive right into my childhood nightmare.
My blood. Component. Enhancer.
Terrible understanding clicked into place. They’d used one abomination to create another.
I couldn’t stop the slight tremor in my fingers as I set the stolen piece of myself down on the table next to me, my pulse booming like the noises echoing around the cargo areas as Bridgebane’s lackeys worked on breaking into the Endeavor.
“Is that something to worry about?” the big guy asked casually. If he hadn’t glanced in the direction of the central cargo bay right then, I would have thought he meant the blood, not the relentless hammering.
A high-pitched sawing started up, and a second set of alarms squawked out of the central computer. My insides pitched sideways. We needed to hurry.
“And that?” he added, his eyebrows lifting.
“Yeah. Those…and a hell of a lot of other things.” In fact, I couldn’t think of one thing that wasn’t a problem right now. “Head to the bridge if you want to live.”
I’d told Fiona I’d get some samples. It made me queasy to carry through on my promise now that I knew the serum was probably based on my blood, but I grabbed an insulated medical satchel stamped with the galactic government’s seal anyway and started filling it with false cure-alls from the nearest temperature-controlled unit. I didn’t take the sample of my blood or try to find the other vials. Drawing attention to them somehow seemed worse than leaving without them.
While I gathered syringes, the man watched me, his gaze so heavy and intense that I was pretty sure he’d memorized the placement of every freckle on the bridge of my nose by the time I finished filling the bag and zipping it closed.
I mentally gave him ten seconds before I turned on my heel and left. He could stay or go, but I hoped he’d come. Like Jax and Fiona, the somewhat prominent vowels and lightly rounded tones of his speech practically screamed Outer Zones, and he had the same slightly weathered look they did, as if once upon a time, he’d spent a lot of his life outdoors.
Those weren’t the only things about him that appealed to me. His nonthreatening calm had just prevented me from completely losing it. It wasn’t every day you realized your mortal enemy had most likely made a weapon from your own blood. And with Bridgebane doing everything he could to get it back, my freak-out time was limited.
I beckoned with my free hand. “Move it, Big Guy. We don’t have long.” His ten seconds were up, and it was time for him to squeeze his big, bearded, and possibly genetically modified self into an escape pod.
Hesitating, he studied me with uncertain eyes. They shifted to the bag I was holding.
I tightened my grip on the strap. “Look, I don’t care if you’re military or civilian or a scientist or a victim or whatever,” I said. “You came with the lab by accident. The Dark Watch is about to board my ship, so unless you’re one of them, you’d better get off it if you want to live.”
“Are you offering me a pod?” he asked.
I nodded, wincing as what sounded like a different saw scraped its serrated teeth right over my frayed nerves. “Let’s go.”
“You take a pod,” he said, not moving. “I can’t let those Dark Watch goons get the lab back.”
Not only did he sound like a rebel from one of the trampled Sectors, but he acted like one, too. I knew I liked him.
“They won’t,” I told him. “I know exactly how to take it out of their reach. And a captain doesn’t abandon ship.”
Something in his eyes glinted, as though he might have approved.
With that, I thought we’d reached an understanding, but as I turned to leave, he leaped forward and snatched the medical bag from my hand. He’d moved fast. Super soldier fast.
I swung around with a glare. “I need that.” If Fiona opted for a pod and actually managed to escape, I had no doubt she could eventually figure out how to use the samples for something good, like helping invalids left crippled by the war.
Shaking his head, he tossed the bag onto the metal lab table behind him, blocking my access to it with his huge body. I tried twice to grab it again, but he was incredibly quick and like a freaking building—impossible to get around.
“You’re wasting time,” I ground out, unable to ignore the screeching that was coming from the starboard door. It was getting louder. They were probably most of the way through.
“Get it later…if there is one.” He jerked his hairy chin toward the exit in a get-the-hell-out-of-here type of way.
Metal cried out as though in pain, and the Endeavor gave a sickening groan. Later seemed entirely unlikely right now, especially given my plans.
To hell with it. I didn’t reach for the bag again.
“Let’s go,” Big Guy said, herding me toward the door.
I was pretty sure that was my line, but we were headed in the same direction anyway.
We worked our way through the vacuum seal and air lock, closing them behind us again before hurrying toward the bridge, our footsteps accompanied by a deafening chorus of ship-wide alerts, hammers, and saws. The bridge doors slid open at my voice command, and all four of my crew members looked over at Big Guy and me—even Shiori, who couldn’t see.
Emotion lodged in my chest. This was it—and not one of them was positioned over a pod hatch, let alone setting up for a scrambled, last-hope escape in one. They’d chosen, and I couldn’t tell if my heart soared or sank. It definitely swelled.
“Where are the samples?” Fiona asked.
“Still in the lab.” I strode to my console and silenced the blaring alarms, leaving only the visual readouts.
I looked pointedly at Fiona again. “And they don’t matter if you’re not gearing up an escape pod right now.”
She opened her mouth to argue but then shut it. I’d announced that it was a pod or death, and my crew knew I always meant what I said. The two were likely synonymous anyway.