Polaris (22 page)

Jeth pulled his arm back, fist clenched.

“Stop, Jeth!” This time, Sierra came at him, shoving him hard in the shoulder. Faced with this new threat, Jeth seized her hand on impulse and threw her across the ring. Sierra struck the barrels and then the ground, where she lay unmoving.

Silence descended as loud as thunder in the cargo bay. No one spoke, no one breathed. Jeth stared at Sierra before him, confusion siphoning away the anger that had possessed him so completely. Then finally horror took its place as the realization of what he'd done hit him.

“Sierra.” Her name caught in his throat as he rushed over to her.

She sat up, her hands braced against him. “Don't touch me.” Fear glistened in her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he said, “I didn't mean—” He broke off as she stood up. Each sign of her pained movement was like a knife to his stomach. He wanted to touch her, wanted to convince her it had been a mistake. He hadn't known what he was doing.

Only he had. Deep down, he knew he'd been aware—he just hadn't been in control. Jeth shoved the realization away and the fear it brought with it.

Sierra didn't respond. She didn't acknowledge him at all as she turned and left the ring, heading for the ladder up to the common deck. Jeth wanted to go after her, but he knew better. She needed time.

And so did he. Time to evaluate what he was doing.

What makes you think you're the one doing it?

Jeth didn't respond to the voice. He didn't have an answer to give.

SIERRA AVOIDED HIM THE REST OF THE DAY, AND WHEN HE
came to bed that night, the cabin they shared was empty. He knew where she was—in the cabin next door, the one Aileen had originally assigned her, not knowing that Sierra and Jeth bunked together.

He sighed at the empty room and sat down on the bed, wrestling with his fear and the constant restless anger. He'd said he was sorry. He didn't know what else to do. He couldn't take it back and he didn't know how to make it right.

He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come. They would be arriving at First-Earth sometime in the morning and he would need the rest. But all the things left undone refused to leave him alone.

It wasn't just Sierra. He hadn't managed to confront Aileen yet either. He could've just asked her for a private word after dinner, but he wanted to catch her by surprise. A person caught off their guard was more likely to get hung up on a lie than someone prepared for it.

Figuring Aileen must've turned in, the same as everyone else, Jeth stood from the bed and left the cabin. He started to turn toward the captain's quarters, but a light at the end of
the corridor drew his attention. He walked quietly toward sick bay and peered through the door.

Aileen was inside, sitting on the examination table with the back of her pajama top pulled up. Jeth frowned. An unlabeled medicine bottle sat beside her on the table, the lid off.

Jeth had no interest in Aileen's shirt coming off—with his luck the moment Aileen flashed him would be the moment Sierra decided to show up and forgive him, only to change her mind—and so he cleared his throat.

Aileen jumped so hard she nearly slid off the table. The movement made her shirt rise even higher, and for a second, Jeth saw something dark on her back, a scaly patch of black and green, like a rotting bruise. She jerked her shirt down, covering it, then scowled at him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She scooted off the table then tugged her shirt down once more, over her pajama pants, a sexy pink ensemble. The sight of it made Jeth regret his choice of cornering her at night.

“Nothing, and none of your business.” She picked up the bottle and replaced the lid.

“What was that thing on your back?”

“Nothing.”
She looked ready to throw the bottle at him. “I've got a skin condition.”

Jeth arched an eyebrow. “A condition, huh? It's not contagious, is it?”

“Of course not.” Aileen sneered.

Jeth knew she wasn't lying. If she did have something contagious, it would be public knowledge. Bioscanners were set
around every dock at Peltraz. Anything dangerous would've set off an alarm.

He smiled, not wanting her to remain on the defensive. “I know. It's just so hard to believe you could be anything less than perfect.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

He snorted. “So, speaking of your many admirers, what's the story with your silent partner?”

A mock vacant expression appeared on Aileen's face. “Why Mr. Seagrave, whatever do you mean?”

Jeth grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, I don't know, maybe the way he superheroed his fist through that barrel?”

Aileen narrowed her eyes at him. “I could ask the same question of you, and the way you knocked Eric down just by shouting at him.”

Jeth shook his head. “You wouldn't bother asking questions you already know the answer to.” To Jeth's irritation, everyone on board knew what had happened, even his mother. And thanks to Perry, they knew it had something to do with the implant, or the Axis to be more specific.
An adjustment phase,
Perry had called it, although Jeth knew it wasn't anything so simple. Both he and Eric had been absolutely silent through the link; Eric was avoiding him as much as Sierra was.

“True,” Aileen said. She turned and placed the bottle in a nearby cabinet. “But no need to worry about Remi. He's just big-boned.”

Jeth laughed and stepped all the way into sick bay, closing the door behind him. He knew how well voices could carry down the corridor when the door was open. The knowledge brought an ache to his chest, the loss of
Avalon
as fresh as the moment it had happened.

Aileen eyed the closed door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as if she feared being shut in the room with him.

“So,” she said, “the story with Remi is, I don't really know his story. He's mute, in case you hadn't noticed.”

Jeth examined her face for any telltale signs of deception. None so far. “How long have you been together?”

Aileen dropped her gaze and began examining her fingernails, which were painted a bright pink. Noticing this detail for the first time, Jeth wondered if this was why Cora was so enamored with her. What little girl didn't like pink fingernail polish?

“A long time now. I can't remember exactly,” Aileen said at last.

“Uh-huh,” Jeth said. It wasn't an outright lie, but he could tell she had more to say. “And how did you meet?”

Aileen heaved a huge sigh. “You're not going to go away until you've heard my whole sad story, are you?”

Jeth shook his head. “Nope.”

“Very well. Can't say I wasn't expecting it. But this would be a lot less boring with something to drink.” She brushed past him and crossed to the door, opening it again. “Care to join me in the galley?”

Jeth frowned, remembering the sterile, cold kitchen. “You're not going to poison me, are you?”

“Darn it, you've gone and ruined the surprise.” She winked, the gesture flirtatious instead of antagonistic for once. “Come on, after the day you've had, I'm sure you could use one, too.” She disappeared down the corridor.

Jeth followed after her, his gaze lingering on the door to Sierra's cabin as he passed by it. He knew he should stop and check on her, but the need to get to the bottom of Aileen's story drove him toward the kitchen.

Aileen poured them each a scotch from a bottle hidden in one of the pantries, and they sat down across from one another at the table. Jeth took a drink, then fought back a cough as it burned his throat. Despite his efforts, tears stung his eyes.

Aileen openly grinned, taking a drink from her own glass like it was water. “Remi was my bodyguard.”

Jeth pounded his chest, forcing a breath. “Excuse me? Your bodyguard?”

“Sounds silly, doesn't it?” She flashed teeth. “But it's true. My father was a very rich, very powerful man.”

“What did he do?”

Aileen sighed. “Tricky question. I guess you could call him an arms dealer of a sort.”

“Of a sort?” Jeth set his glass down, deciding it best to wait a moment before trying again. He needed his wits about him, if he hoped to catch her in a lie. “So what happened? Where's Daddy now?” The slightest of flinches passed over
Aileen's face at the question, and the sight of it pricked Jeth's curiosity. That had been a genuine reaction, the first of the conversation.

“We had . . . artistic differences. He envisioned my life going one direction, and I envisioned it going another. So I left for a better life, taking Remi with me, because why the hell not? Nobody can say he isn't useful to have around.”

“You call this a better life?” Jeth motioned to the ship at large. “Wealthy heiress turned thief?”

“Well, it's a more interesting life at least. I never want for adventure.”

“Right.” Jeth picked up the glass and took a sip with considerably more finesse than the last time. “Was your father abusive?”

Aileen gaped. “Wow, blunt much?”

“Sorry,” Jeth said, “but sometimes the direct approach is best.” Cruel maybe, but effective. Her surprise had given him time to read the truth on her face—a resounding, heart-wrenching yes.

Aileen's eyes dropped to the table, and she brushed back strands of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. “He wasn't abusive, exactly. More . . . controlling.”

Jeth watched the lie on her face as she spoke.
Damn,
he thought, unable to keep his feelings toward her from softening automatically. When he'd started this endeavor, he hadn't expected to end up feeling sorry for her. He preferred regarding her as a rival, not somebody to bother caring about. But he saw too much of the same pain on her face that
he sometimes saw in Sierra's. She too had grown up with an abusive, controlling father.

Aileen raised her eyes and met his gaze. “But I'm free of him, and yes, that does make this a better way of life.”

“Glad to hear it.” He offered her a kind smile. “So you left with bodyguard in tow and then what? Did you join Soleil Marcel's organization right away or did that come later?”

“Later, much later.” Aileen tapped a fingernail against the table. “And I never joined her organization. I'm a freelancer, always have been.”

Jeth blinked. It wasn't that he didn't know about freelancers—or mercenaries, to use a more accurate term—he just never pegged Aileen for one. She was too young for one thing, eighteen or nineteen at most. You had to build a reputation for years before anyone would hire you freelance.

“You are such a skeptic,” Aileen said, interpreting his silence correctly. “It's why we will never be friends.”

“Aw, that breaks my heart.” He touched a hand to his chest. “But you've got to understand it, yeah? You were what, fifteen when you left home? No one will hire a kid without any cred.”

“I was fourteen actually, but I didn't just start off by myself. Remi and I joined the Dark Stars for a while.”

Jeth's mouth fell open. The Dark Stars were mercenaries, but they weren't like other gangs. In a lot of ways, the gang functioned like a training unit for criminal organizations. Members came and went without issue among the Dark Stars. No, the leaving wasn't hard, just the joining in
the first place. It was highly competitive. Only applicants with exceptional potential ever made it in. Hell, Jeth was pretty sure
he
wouldn't have made it in. Lizzie, maybe, but not him.

“How'd you manage that?”

A gleam shone in Aileen's eyes, and she leaned back in her chair. “I've got a very unique, very valuable skill. The Dark Stars recruited
me
.”

Jeth arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What skill?”

Aileen shook her head. “Sorry, Peacock. That's my secret, and I'm not sharing. But just trust me when I say it's a skill that makes me incredibly valuable to anybody in this business, including Dax.”

Jeth smirked, wondering how much she was aware of Dax's attraction to her. Probably very aware, he decided. Or maybe her special skill was part of the reason why Dax was so interested in her. But what was it? The Shades all had special skills, too, but none so great that they weren't willing to brag about it to someone else.
Well, not counting Cora.
Her skill, and Marian's, was one that it was best to keep quiet about. Jeth couldn't imagine Aileen possessing anything nearly so extraordinary as that.

He cleared his throat. “And I take it Remi's special skill is punching through steel walls.”

Aileen grinned. “Yep. I'm sure you can see the value.”

“Uh-huh.” He rubbed his chin. “Mercenary. Explains a lot. Can I assume we'll get a demonstration of your special skill on this job?”

Aileen sighed. “Doubtful. There shouldn't be any call for it.”

Jeth's brow furrowed. “Then why are you here? If you're a freelancer, why take this job? And why would Dax trust you on something like this?”

Aileen scowled. “I'm trustworthy. When I commit to a job, I do it. No exceptions. And I've proven my loyalty to Dax. Besides, there aren't many people small enough to make it up that air shaft.”

“Lizzie could have done it,” Jeth said. “If she were here.”

Aileen laughed. “Like you would've let her do something so dangerous.”

“Good point.” Jeth grimaced, worry for Lizzie encroaching on his thoughts again. He'd checked his messages earlier, hoping she'd found a way to send him one, but no luck. “But you still didn't say why you chose this job. It's a lot of risk for someone who doesn't have a personal stake in this fight.”

“Oh, but the risk is the point. For me.” Aileen met his gaze and held it, unflinching. “That is my only prerequisite for the jobs I take. The bigger the risk, the better.”

Jeth tilted his head, his confusion growing. She hadn't been lying, of that he was sure, but her answer didn't make sense. Nobody did jobs just for the thrill of it. Not that he didn't understand the thrill angle—he enjoyed the rush of courting danger too, at least he used to before the stakes had gotten so high, before life had shackled him with so much failure—but without some sort of reward, it just didn't make sense.

“No offense, but I find that hard to believe.”

Aileen sighed. “Like I said, skeptic. But it's true. Don't get me wrong, I'll be taking home a nice paycheck once we finish this, but that's not why I'm here. I know it sounds crazy, but this risk, this feeling like we're one mistake away from death, or worse—that's the stuff that makes me feel alive.”

“You're right,” Jeth said, “that is crazy.” He smirked, though in truth he had an easier time understanding it when she put it that way. The high that came after a close call was unlike any other. It was a moment of complete fulfillment, complete elation, as if every fiber of your body and soul was fully engaged in the here and now, fully electrified. Doubts and worries did not exist in that moment. The persistent empty feeling—the daily want for something more, something greater always just out of reach—disappeared.

“But I get it,” Jeth said. Envy rose up in him, and he looked away from Aileen, letting his gaze wander over the room. The starkness of it struck him again, and the envy faded as quickly as it had come. Aileen's life had its moments of fun, no doubt, but the in between looked pretty lonely. At least that was one thing Jeth had never struggled with. He'd always had Lizzie and Milton, his crew. Aileen only had this empty ship and a silent, cold bodyguard for company.