Page 10 of Alien Devil's Prey
I stood alone in the cockpit, surrounded by the familiar hum of theDrifter'ssystems and the cold light of distant stars. My reflection stared back at me from the darkened console screens—pale, shaken, with lips that were still swollen from that soft sound I'd made.
I touched my throat where his mouth had been, and my skin still tingled with phantom heat.
The line between us had been crossed, and my fury at him—and myself—burned cold and clean as starlight.
TALON
The transit through hyperspace passed with a strained quiet. Tamsin and I focused on our respective stations, the professional distance a relief after the raw intensity of her rejection. When the proximity alarms blared, it was an expected warning, announcing our arrival at the destination I'd marked on the charts before we'd ever leftThe Penumbra—a remote, un-trafficked asteroid field, perfect for going dark.
It stretched before us, a quiet graveyard of rock and ice. Tamsin's hands moved across the controls, her focus absolute as she threaded us through the field's outer boundary. I watched her work, my perception of her fractured and reformed. She was no longer just the complication I'd had to neutralize. She was the only reason we were still alive. The way she handled the ship, the way she'd mastered the ship's damaged systems, her focus absolute, stirred something primitive in my chest. A feeling entirely separate from the mission, an instinct that had everything to do with the predator recognizing its prize.
She was magnificent in her element, and I wanted to possess that magnificence.
TheDrifterresponded more sluggishly than I was used to—nothing like theNightfall'sprecise handling. The ship groanedaround us, hull stressed from our earlier ordeal, loose panels vibrating overhead with each course correction. I'd chosen not to strap in, preferring the mobility to monitor multiple systems at once.
"Proximity alert on the starboard sensors," she called out, not taking her eyes off the display. "The field is denser here, but the path looks clear if we adjust our vector by?—"
The collision alarm shrieked through the cockpit.
A massive asteroid, easily ten times the size of anything we'd encountered, materialized directly ahead. Our damaged sensors had missed it completely. The rock had been hidden in the shadow of a smaller one until it was too late for anything but the most desperate maneuver.
"Hold on!" Tamsin yanked the controls hard to port. The violent turn threw us against our seats, the G-forces of our own maneuver slamming into us as the ship groaned in protest. "Still don't trust these readings," she muttered under her breath, fighting the sluggish controls.
My body acted on pure instinct. I braced my forearm against the console edge and threw myself across the narrow space between our seats. My arm clamped around her, pinning her against the pilot's chair as my bulk shielded her from the worst of the crushing force. The ship screamed past the asteroid with meters to spare, the proximity sensors wailing their protest.
The moment of danger passed, but I didn't pull away immediately. My breath came in ragged gasps against her hair, my arm still locked around her waist. She was warm and solid beneath my touch, alive and unharmed, and the relief that flooded through me was entirely disproportionate. What the hell was wrong with me? When had my first instinct become protecting her instead of the mission?
I pulled back slightly, my hand still resting on her shoulder. "Try not to get yourself killed. I'm not doing that again."
She twisted in her seat to look at me, those hazel eyes bright with adrenaline and a flicker of something that could have been amusement. Her voice carried that sharp humor she used to deflect when things got too intense. "You make a terrible airbag."
The comment caught me completely off guard. A sound escaped me—barely more than a breath, but unmistakably a laugh. "Terrible?"
"Terrible," she confirmed, but there was something almost fond in her tone. "Too bony. And you're supposed to inflate on impact, not just... loom protectively."
"I don't loom."
"You absolutely loom." She turned back to the controls, but I caught the corner of her mouth twitching. "It's very... imposing Vinduthi warrior of you."
Another laugh escaped before I could stop it. "I'll work on my airbag technique."
"Please don't. I prefer my protective gestures to come with better cushioning."
The easy banter landed between us like a small miracle, but the vulnerability of the moment sent a chill down my spine. I had laughed. I had let my guard down. A mistake.
Vulnerability was a liability,and on a mission this dangerous, that kind of lapse could get us both killed.
I turned away from her, my back rigid as I faced my console. "Run a full diagnostic on the starboard thrusters," I said, my voice flat, clipped. All traces of warmth gone. "Now."
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the hum of the ship. I could feel her staring at my back. When I finally turned, her hands were gripping the controls so tightly her knuckles were white. The amusement in her eyes had been replaced by a familiar, blazing anger.
"What was that?" she asked, her voice low and sharp.
"What was what?"
"Don't." She turned to face me fully. "One minute you're laughing, the next you're giving orders like I'm just another piece of equipment. Don't pretend this is just about being practical."
"I kept you from getting hurt."
