“Yeah, I’m sick of not knowing what the fuck is going on or why it’s going on. I want to put out feelers to a few people I know, see if anyone’s figured out what happened with the Caelestis. And then I want to ID the ships that have been on our ass—all Corporation? Or are some actually the Sisterhood, like that medal Gage found implies? And if so, why the hell are they willing to shoot the high priestess out of the fucking air?”
“I already told you,” Rain says quietly. “I’ll just be reincarnated, so it’s not a problem for them.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a major fucking problem for me,” Beckett snarls. And for once, I agree with her, though not for the exact same reasons. Obviously.
“Well, if you want to know who’s after us,” Gage pipes up from the back wall, where he’s been fiddling with the comms, “you could start by checking out who’s been trying to contact us.”
Chapter 61
Ian
“Someone’s been calling us?” I demand. “Why didn’t you mention that?”
“Because I just found the log about thirty seconds ago,” Gage says. “There are twenty-two calls logged. All with the same origin point.”
I shoot him a narrow-eyed glare. “And that would be?”
“Askkandia. And not just Askkandia—the royal palace.”
Well, fuck. Of course it’s the palace. And I’d bet my last planeta that it’s the Empress herself who’s been reaching out.
“Just because the palace is trying to get in touch with us doesn’t mean they know who’s got the ship,” Max argues.
“True. But they’ve probably got a pretty good idea of at least a couple of the passengers.” Beckett looks pointedly at Rain and Kali.
She’s right. I know she’s right. Otherwise, why would the Empire give a fuck about this ship? Ancient artifact or not.
“Yeah, well, I’m not giving her either of them,” I say. Handing Rain over to that woman would be like taking a kanadoo to the slaughter. As for Kali—no way. I just found her. There’s no fucking way I’m giving her up to that woman.
No fucking way.
“Will she be able to tell our location if we talk to her?” Max asks Gage.
“No. I should be able to scramble it.”
“Should be able to or can?” I demand in a voice that warns him not to fuck with me.
“Can,” he says after several seconds of further tinkering.
I still think it’s a bad idea. But maybe if we talk to the Empress, we’ll have an idea of who blew up the Caelestis. And why everyone in the fucking solar system seems to have a hard-on for us right now.
“Why don’t you ask Kali?” Max says. “This isn’t a decision you have to make by yourself. It affects her most of all.”
“Because if she ends up hurt because of it, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling guilty.” Fuck, I miss the old Ian who did what was best for Milla, Max, and himself and damn everyone else. This worrying-about-other-people thing fucking sucks.
“Exactly. So let her have agency in the decision.”
“Agency?” I repeat, arching a brow.
“Self help books are a thing,” he answers defensively. “You might want to try a few.”
It shows just how much I’ve changed that I don’t take the time to make fun of him for that. “What if she wants Kali?”
“Well, she can’t fucking have her,” he growls.
Yeah, that’s pretty much how I feel, too.
I turn to the others. “I hate the idea of talking to her, but maybe the Empress can give us some clue as to what the hell is going on. All those in favor of having a lovely little chat with a royal, raise your hands.”
Chapter 62
Kali
I look around the room, but everyone is standing frozen, looking at me. And I have no idea what I want to do.
I turn and look at Ian.
He looks like he wants to say no. But instead, he blows out a breath and asks me, “Do you want to talk to her?”
I think on that for a moment. “No—”
“Okay, then,” he interrupts immediately, looking very relieved, “let’s—”
“But I think I should.” My heart is pounding as nerves get the better of me. But just because something is hard—and maybe a little terrifying—doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it. “She is my mother. She must have been worried about me.”
To emphasize my point, I raise my hand, then look around the room as everyone else slowly raises theirs, too. Except for Ian, but that’s to be expected.
Looks like we’re going to be talking to my mom.
Bile rises in my throat at the thought. Not about letting her know I’m alive—but about what it means once that happens. Ian and I finally had a real moment, and now I’m terrified I’m going to have to leave without ever knowing what might happen next.
Ian nods, like this was the decision he expected all along. Then he asks, “So when should we do it?” He sounds as resigned as he looks.
“I don’t see any reason to draw it out,” Max replies. “Let’s get it over with.”
I slide into one of the side seats as Gage taps a few keys on the main console.
The projection beams out in front of my chair, and I’m glad Gage has rigged it so the rest of them won’t be visible on the comms. Because when the screen lights up, my mom is sitting there, eyes narrowed and fingers tapping impatiently on the marble desk in front of her. For one tiny moment, the little girl inside me is thrilled to see her. She is my mother, after all. But then everything I’ve learned about her in the last few weeks overwhelms me, and the excitement fades in a wave of chest-tightening disappointment and fear.
I close my eyes for just a second, take a breath to center myself. And when I open them again, I’m ready for anything. Even the Empress.
We have the same coloring—light-brown skin with dark red hair that was passed down to the Empress from her mother and grandmother. I have my father’s eyes, though, and I take after him in the height department, too, as I’m much taller than my mother. Except for the squinty eyes, her face is expressionless, but I can see a tic jumping in her cheek—a sure sign that she’s not happy.
My stomach plummets at the realization, and I can feel my entire body tense up. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her—weeks in which a whole host of new and shocking things have happened to me—so I don’t know how one look at her face can so quickly have me feeling like a child waiting to be chastised.
Her eyes widen as she catches sight of me, then narrow down to slits. At first, I don’t know what I’ve done to upset her, until I realize she’s staring at my silver jumpsuit. Apparently even with all the problems in the solar system, having her daughter not dressed in Imperial Regalia is high on her list of complaints.
Still, I force a neutral expression. “Hello, Mother.”
“Kalinda, I’m glad to see that you’re well. Now give me your coordinates,” she orders in the voice she uses for misbehaving children and recalcitrant councilors. “I’ll dispatch a force immediately to get you.”
“I can’t do that.”