“It’s completely dead,” Ian tells me.
I frown as I look around. “What I don’t understand is, what was it even doing on the Caelestis? An obsolete ship like this?”
“I have no fucking clue.” Ian reaches out and thumps it hard with his fist, just like he did with the control panel upstairs. “Fucking start, you bastard.”
“You really think that’s going to—” I break off as a strange whirring noise fills my ears, a sort of soft buzzing.
“See.” He smirks. “Sometimes violence works.”
“And sometimes it doesn’t.” I gesture to the now silent engine. “I don’t see anything actually working. But maybe if I take a closer look, I can—”
“Don’t touch anything.” He cuts me off, but it’s with a quick wink. “Let’s get out of here. Go look at the rest of the ship.”
I follow him, trying to figure out what’s going on. He seems a lot friendlier now than he did on the bridge, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be back to being a jerk three seconds from now. He’s such a contradiction that it’s hard to catch up.
But as we walk silently through the ship, I remember something I’ve been meaning to ask him. I quicken my pace, wanting to see his face when I do.
“Why didn’t you want me to touch the heptosphere?” I ask. “Back in the lab—why did you stop me?”
Ian looks at me, calculation in his eyes. His expression doesn’t change. He pauses, gives a shrug, and for a moment I’m sure he’s not going to answer, but then he says, “That thing is dangerous. I haven’t seen it in action, but I’ve heard rumors of people burned to a crisp by it.”
So he was trying to keep me from getting hurt? It’s not the answer I was expecting, and it makes me feel a little funny inside. Probably just a side effect of the hunger. “But Dr. Veragelen told us it was safe to touch.”
He gives me a look—a sort of are-you-really-that-naive look. “Yeah, well, Doc V isn’t exactly known for her sweet nature. You know what her nickname was among the crew?”
“No idea.”
“Dr. Wicked. Those prisoners being shipped off in the Reformer? They were the lucky ones who survived the experiments. There were a lot who didn’t.” He pauses for a second, like he’s trying to decide how much to say. “Though I’m not sure ‘lucky’ is the right word to describe the survivors. We don’t actually know where they were being taken.”
“I agree that Dr. Veragelen seemed problematic, but I still don’t believe she would do something like that. Use people in that way. My mother would never permit such a thing.”
He gives me a look I can’t begin to decipher. But I know it’s not good, and that infuriates me.
“My mom may be a lot of things,” I tell him with a scowl, “but she wouldn’t condone human experiments of the kind you’re talking about. And she definitely wouldn’t condone some prison ship taking people off to be tortured, as you’re implying. She’s tough, but she’s not cruel.”
Yet, even as I say the last, I’m not so sure. Years of being a disappointment to her have proven that my mother has the capacity for cruelty, even if I don’t know how much she actually indulges that capacity. Or in what way, if it doesn’t have to do with me. My stomach churns at the thought.
I expect Ian to argue with me, but all he says is, “Maybe you should have a chat with Beckett about that.”
I don’t want to. Maybe I’m scared of what I’ll hear. I power forward. “I’ll do that. But even if Dr. Veragelen was doing experiments on the Caelestis, it doesn’t mean my mother knew about them or authorized them.”
“Yeah, you cling to that, Princess, if it helps you sleep at night.”
I start to say something, but he’s opening another door and peering inside before I can formulate a thought. “Sleeping cabin,” he tells me before moving on to the next door. “Bathroom.”
He steps inside and does something I can’t see. “No water. What a surprise.”
The rest of the doors lead to more cabins and another bathroom. “Looks like there are three cabins,” Ian says. “Some of us will be sharing.”
I push past him to get a look at the room myself. It’s quite small, and there are three narrow beds, one along each wall. All are bare of bedding, but at least it’s warm on the ship and we won’t freeze when we try to sleep.
And just that easily, a wave of exhaustion washes over me. It’s been a long day. But it’s not time to sleep yet. We still have decisions to make.
“So, who will you be sharing with, Princess?” His voice is teasing, but the look on his face is anything but. It makes me uncomfortable, but in a good way, if that makes sense.
“I—I can’t share. I need a room to myself.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” He studies me like I’m some sort of interesting specimen. “Are you always this selfish? Is that just part of being who you are?”
I start to tell him that it’s not selfishness, that I need a room to myself because a princess can’t be seen in moments of weakness or vulnerability. I can’t change clothes in front of anyone but my companion-in-waiting. Grief threatens to swamp me again at the thought of Lara, but I beat it back down. I certainly can’t cry in front of someone.
And I can’t sleep in front of anyone, either. What if one of my dreams—or worse, my nightmares—has me crying out?
I can’t tell him that, though. Just wanting that privacy makes me sound weak or needy, neither of which is acceptable.
When I remain silent, just staring at him with what I’m sure are confused eyes, Ian shakes his head in annoyance. “Whatever you’re used to back home, on this ship you’re just another person, like anyone else—except, I suspect, a little more useless.”
The words are more painful than they have any right to be. I want to argue, to say I’ll do what it takes to pull my weight on this ship, but he barrels on and doesn’t give me a chance.
“You can share with Max and Gage. Max would never do anything to hurt you. And Gage—” He shakes his head in obvious annoyance. “Gage may be an untrustworthy fuck, but you won’t have to worry about him crawling into bed with you in the middle of the night. You’re not his type.”
“I never presumed I was. But how do you know that?”
“Gage is into guys, and you are most definitely not a guy.” He shrugs. “But, hey. If you want to room with Beckett instead—”
“Max and Gage will be fine,” I tell him hastily. Because I definitely don’t trust her not to hurt me the second I close my eyes.
“That’s what I thought,” he smirks. “But I’ll warn you—Max snores.”
I couldn’t care less about Max snoring, but I file away the information that Ian doesn’t trust Gage, despite the fact that he obviously hired him for something back on the Caelestis. Maybe if he’s for hire, I could persuade him to help me get home—in exchange for a hefty reward, of course.
I glance up at Ian, who has a small smile on his face as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Abruptly, I realize how close he is—way less than a meter away. His dark eyes are gleaming in the dim half-light, and I’m suddenly a little lightheaded.