Page 18 of Warped

A quick glance is all it takes to figure out how the closet is organized. The right side is obviously for the guys. Jeans, T-shirts, and even some expensive looking suits.

That means the other side is for me.

It’s not empty though. Not even close. The racks are lined with skimpy dresses and even skimpier lingerie in a wide variety of colors, styles, and sizes. Outfits that have been worn by previous Warp companions.

That shouldn’t make me feel jealous.

But it does.

I don’t know why. It’s stupid, really. Rek and Traven are both long-term warpers. I know their reputation. They’ve probably had sex with hundreds of women. There’s no reason for me to think that I’m special—aside from the fact that I’m a lot less skilled than the women who came before me.

Besides, I barely even know these two men. I haven’t even been with them for an hour. There’s no reason for me to feel anything toward them except—

I shake my head.

Focus, Binx. Focus. You’re supposed to be saving the world, remember? Well,aworld, at least.

I carry my stuff down to the far end of the closet, where there’s a bit of empty space. I push my suitcase in beside a rack of expensive looking shoes, and I hang my trench coat up on a coat hanger.

What about my underwear? It’s brand new, but already in need of a wash. The bra is damp with sweat, and the panties are even more soaked with a different kind of wetness. There’s a metal bin in the corner labeled HAMPER, so I toss everything in there.

Now that just leaves the datastick.

Where should I hide it?

I briefly consider sticking it inside a pair of shoes or tucking it between some garments stacked on the shelves, but I’m worried I might forget where I put it. I’m also worried Traven or Rek might find it if I do that. All these clothes belong to them, and there’s always a chance they might decide to move things around for no reason.

So, I decide to go with the simplest option for hiding the datastick. The same one I’ve been using so far. I drop it back into the pocket of the trench coat.

That’s the safest place for it.

“Binx?”

The sound of Rek’s voice nearly makes me jump right out of my skin—which, at the moment, is the only thing I have to jump outof. For a second I think he’s standing in the closet with me, but when I whirl around to look for him, I see that I’m still alone.

Then I realize where his voice is really coming from. There’s a speaker built into the ceiling. He’s speaking to me over the ship’s intercom system.

Does that mean there are cameras in here too? Is he watching me right now?

Probably not. If he was watching me, he would have seen how confused I was by his voice, and he would have said something about the intercom.

Unless he didn’t want me to know he can see me.

Or maybe that’s just me being paranoid. After everything that’s happened to me over the past couple days, my paranoia threshold has shifted. I don’t know if I can trust anyone anymore. But I’m going to have to trust Rek a little. I’m on his ship now. I’m in his hands. His and Traven’s.

“Um… hi?” I reply, uncertain whether or not he can hear me.

Apparently he can, because as soon as I’m finished speaking, he says, “Hey, Binx. Just wanted to let you know, we’re about to enter the Warpgate. I thought maybe you’d want to see it.”

Holy crap, we’re about to enter the Warpgate? I didn’t even think we had taken off yet. The gravity field generators work even better than I realized.

“Um… do you want me to come up to the cockpit?”

“No need, Binx. There’s no window up here, just a view-screen. I can send the image to the bedroom if you’d like to watch.”

Duh. I should have thought of that.

“Yes, please.”

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