Captivated (The Verge Book 2) Page 5

  “No. And if you’re not going to stop asking stupid questions, I’d honestly rather you shoot me.”

  Theo tried to school his features into something half as serious as Jun’s solemn face, reining in his wild curiosity to focus on gaining pertinent information. “Where are you taking me?”

  It seemed Jun would refuse to answer, but he appeared more comfortable with questions regarding Theo’s abduction than his own personal details. He answered quickly and quietly, “To my ship.” His mouth barely moved as he tracked every minute movement of the gun and continued to inch forward.

  Theo’s arm drooped, his shoulders sagging with befuddlement. “But we’re already aboard your ship.”

  “This isn’t my ship; this is just the dinghy.” Jun moved dangerously close, hands out and ready at his sides.

  Theo scooted backward until he bumped up against the bulkhead, gun raised but not in the least ready. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the term.”

  Jun didn’t slow his approach, stalking Theo with the hard eyes of a single-minded predator. Theo felt a slight tinge of concern for his own mental state that he found it so devastatingly attractive. His survival instincts really were appalling.

  Jun’s voice was clipped with the sharp edge to his accent that had originally fascinated Theo. He wanted to analyze every soft phoneme and clipped consonant until he could pin it down.

  Until he could pin Jun down.

  “It’s a single-person craft for making short trips planetside,” Jun said.

  The space between Jun’s chest and Theo’s gun was closing rapidly.

  “Oh.” Theo’s voice was small as his hands began to shake.

  Only a few feet between them now. Jun bit his lip as he stared at the gun, every muscle tense and his words almost too low to hear, dropping into a growl. “That, and it’s dingy as fuck.”

  Theo jumped, knocking his head against the wall as Jun snatched the gun away and continued to move closer until he pressed Theo into the bulkhead with the entire length of his body.

  His eyes held Theo’s for an endless moment, his breathing so harsh that his chest brushed against Theo’s lapels on every exhalation. Theo refused to turn away despite his trembling, fear and arousal sending his body into a tailspin of hormones until he was drunk on them. Jun’s gaze fell to Theo’s quivering lips just before he stepped back with a dissatisfied grunt.

  “I shouldn’t have released you from the rusted tape.”

  Chapter Six

  Jun shoved away from Theo to stomp across the length of the cabin and slam his hand against a security panel. The upper half of the wall slid away after a series of beeps.

  Hidden behind the wall was an impressive collection of weaponry, neatly displayed and ranging from items as small as Theo’s little finger to launchers he suspected he would not be able to lift.

  He dared to walk closer, stopping a few feet away at Jun’s baleful glance. “You had all of these other weapons at your disposal? I can’t imagine why you were so concerned when I took one little ray gun. You could have simply outgunned me at any point. It appears to me you made a fuss for nothing. Bit of a tempest in a teapot, really.”

  Jun snapped the gun he had taken back from Theo into the wall. He considered for a second before choosing a larger pistol, equipped with bio-locks, which he quickly set to his hand, then muttered his answer, “Wouldn’t you be concerned if an orangutan picked up a gun?”

  With a gasp, Theo pressed a hand to his chest, knocked back a step by the force of his offense. “I beg your pardon. Are you comparing me to an orangutan?”

  The lock clicked shut on the panel as Jun closed it. Then he secured the new pistol in his holster as he aimed a pointed look at Theo’s hair.

  Theo hastened to brush through the tangled mess with his fingers, longing for a mirror and comb and bemoaning his unusual coloring. He and Ari had certainly endured more than their share of schoolyard taunts about their red hair, but orangutan was a new one.

  Jun’s lips twitched up as he watched Theo’s frantic efforts. He pitched his voice low and dry as he walked past Theo toward the cockpit. “I would have felt safer with the monkey.”

  Theo remembered the small, cracked mirror over the sink in the washroom and made his way there to remedy his hair. Jun didn’t seem in a hurry to produce more tape, and Theo didn’t feel inclined to press his luck.

  He groaned darkly when he caught sight of the mess on his head, setting it to rights with little more than his fingertips and a judicious application of muttered threats. It was almost lying correctly when he was startled by the sound of metal smashing in the cockpit.

  Hair forgotten, Theo scrambled his way to the cockpit to be greeted by the sight of Jun destroying a small section of the dash with his fist, cursing loudly all the while.

  Theo slid into the copilot’s seat, being careful to give Jun a wide berth. “Are we experiencing technical difficulties?”

  Jun declined to answer. Instead, he buried his fist into the ruined section with a roar of fury, pulled out a handful of busted wiring, and tossed it to the floor at his feet.

  Clucking his tongue, Theo tucked his own feet underneath himself on the chair to avoid the sparking wires spilling from the ragged hole in the dash. “Well, if we weren’t before, we certainly are now.”

  Jun turned to him with clenched teeth and bloody knuckles, stormy face daring Theo to say another word.

  Theo never could resist a dare.

  “Does that usually work for you? This type of extreme percussive maintenance? It certainly seems an imprecise method at best. I can’t imagine that it has ever proven to be effective. Whatever was the problem in the first place?”

  Jun turned back to the dash, running the fingers of his uninjured hand through his hair. He sat abruptly in the pilot’s chair, shoulders slumped. “Navigational error. Can’t make the jump without new coordinates.”

  Theo put one foot on the floor to swivel his chair and leaned out to grab hold of Jun’s injured hand. Blood ran down around the letters spelling “Honor” in a way that might have seemed metaphorical had Theo been in the mood for such nonsense.

  He examined the cuts, then retrieved his pristine monogrammed handkerchief and blotted away the blood, Jun’s regard heavy on his bent head all the while. “And the solution to this is for you to split your hand open by losing a round of fisticuffs with several tons of steel?”

  Jun let out a low noise as Theo wrapped his knuckles tightly in the handkerchief. A picture of exhausted misery, Jun shook his head and pulled his hand back to examine the makeshift bandage. He ran a finger across the delicate lace edging and embroidered initials. “No. The solution is much worse than that.”

  Theo scoffed with a gesture to his ruined handkerchief. “What could be so much worse than beating yourself bloody?”

  Jun’s sigh contained an entire crateload of reluctance as he pulled up the flight screen and tapped in a new location. His voice dragged down with the force of his dread and revulsion.

  “Contact with the locals.”

  *

  Jun halted Theo’s progress with a firm hand around his arm, jerking him to a stop on the red dirt road just outside a decrepit saloon.

  Constructed of little more than discarded metal and a dash of misplaced hope, the squat building stood smack in the middle of the worn-down Verge settlement Jun had decided upon.

  He released Theo, then pulled his hood down lower on his head as he considered the dilapidated entrance. “I’ll do the talking.”

  Theo giggled, then failed at suppressing an exuberant and very undignified snort as Jun’s offended face glowered down at him from within the shadows of his hood. “Oh. You were serious? I honestly thought you were in jest, making reference to your taciturn nature. You know, something like saying I was going to do the heavy lifting when, clearly, I am unsuitable. Not that I wish to imply that you are unsuitable for speaking. More that I mean to emphasize your apparent distaste for the endeavor. Conversation and
the like.”

  Jun tightened his jaw and pointed his index finger rather rudely in Theo’s face. “Just. Be. Quiet.”

  Theo turned his fingers in front of his lips in imitation of a key, applauding himself for his silent agreement. Jun watched the gesture stone-faced. He then turned back toward the entrance and stalked through the door with a put-upon sigh quickly overshadowed by the screech of rusted hinges.

  Which was just as quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming stench of the place.

  Theo mourned the loss of his handkerchief, desperate for the scent of lavender sachets even as he was aware there was no refreshing scent powerful enough to undo the horrors being wrought upon his olfactory senses.

  Judging by Jun’s expression, he was in wholehearted agreement.

  Every eye in the saloon, thirteen by Theo’s count, turned to stare at them as they paused just inside the doorway, the smell having affected them like a blow to the head.

  Jun emitted a subvocal growl at the attention that reminded Theo of nothing so much as the buzzing of a charged ray gun.

  Squaring his shoulders, Theo approached the metal bar, which was decorated with naught but a deeply embedded pattern of rust stains and grime.

  In fact, Theo challenged himself to describe the establishment without using the word “grimy” and came up short.

  After swinging up onto the nearest barstool, he lifted a finger to gain the attention of the elderly bartender.

  Jun pressed up against his back, hissing in his ear, “What are you doing?”

  Theo tossed a smile over his shoulder, nodding at a gentleman at a nearby table who seemed to consider him an exotic animal exhibit. “This is a bar; I am ordering drinks so that we may better blend in with the clientele.”

  Jun’s answering snarl was cut off by the approach of the bartender, whose fluffy white eyebrows raised as far as they would go beneath an undulating sea of wrinkled skin.

  “What can I get you fellas?”

  Theo could hear Jun’s teeth grinding directly behind his head as he aimed a friendly smile at the man. “Hello! What a lovely little place you have here; I was just admiring the decor.”

  The man’s wrinkles rearranged into a pattern that might have denoted confusion. He turned and spat behind him, almost hitting the large brass spittoon sitting between barrels of ale.

  Theo’s smile slipped as he stared down at the dark puddle of spittle soaking into the concrete floor.

  He folded his hands on the bar top, marveling at the variety of textures that could all best be described as sticky. “I’ll have a brandy spritz, if you don’t mind.”

  “What,” the man replied, in such a way that the word was not a question so much as a statement of incredulity.

  Jun tossed a handful of credit chips onto the bar, the clattering noise swiftly gaining every last ounce of attention in the building. “Two whiskeys. Straight.”

  Theo turned to place a hand on Jun’s arm. “Oh, I don’t drink whiskey. I’m afraid I ca—”

  “Shut. Up.”

  The last remnants of Theo’s smile fell away entirely in the face of Jun’s fury. Every impressive muscle practically vibrated beneath his coat, his arm like steel under Theo’s hand.

  The bartender dropped two cloudy glasses onto the bar top and slopped an indiscriminate amount of whiskey into each one, easily spilling half the amount onto the bar.

  Jun’s head turned like a hawk, snapping to a table set into the back corner. “There. Go.”

  Theo aimed a soft thank-you at the bartender, who’d already turned away to laugh uproariously with a man who gestured at Theo with a whisper.

  After gathering the glasses, Theo led the way to the table, keeping his expression pleasantly neutral as every eye in the place followed his movements. Jun followed so close at his back that he nearly trod on Theo’s heel.

  A lone man sat at the indicated table, watching them over the rim of his glass. He set it down into a drying puddle of beer foam as they approached.

  “Good day, sir!” Theo nodded at the empty chairs. “Would you mind if we joined you?”

  The man leaned back in his chair with a growing smile as he let his eyes run from the tips of Theo’s spats up to the length of his hair. A puff of dust filled the air when he slapped one of his thighs. “Sure thing.” He slid down in his seat, spreading his thighs. “Got just the place for you right here. Your frownin’ man’s gonna have to split though. I don’t like to share.”

  His smile dropped when Jun kicked out one of the chairs. A firm hand on Theo’s shoulder pressed him into it. Jun turned the next chair the wrong way around and straddled it, arms crossed on top.

  Theo set their drinks on the table, the clink of glass muffled by the thick layer of grunge coating the surface. He studiously ignored the flutter of heat trying to start a fire in his belly at the sight of Jun’s confidently spread legs.

  The man rested a hand on the holster at his hip while he scoped out the visible edges of Jun’s tattoos. Theo leaned forward to gain his attention as tension crackled across the table. “I’m terribly sorry to approach without a proper introduction, but needs must. I’m Theo, and my companion is—”

  “In a hurry.” Jun shot a poisonous glance Theo’s way.

  The man managed to smile warmly at Theo while keeping a hard eye on Jun. “Some folks call me Sam. Pleased to meet you, Theo. Pretty little thing, ain’t you?”

  Jun stiffened at Theo’s side, hostility radiating from him like rising clouds of steam. The man’s smile only grew wider.

  Theo leaned in closer to Sam, playing with the lace at his cuff as he angled a look up through his eyelashes. “Do you really think so? I wonder if perhaps you might be amenable to—”

  Jun yanked Theo back by the collar of his jacket and ignored his strangled yelp. “We’re looking for a”—he winced as he gritted the word out through his teeth—“singer. That’s you. You give me the latest jump coordinates, and I give you credits. Then we”—he tilted his head meaningfully at Theo—“can get out of this shithole.”

  Theo raised his eyebrows, impressed with the length of the speech.

  Sam appeared less impressed, squinting thoughtfully at Jun before turning back to Theo. “Look grown to me. I expect you can decide for yourself exactly what you’d like to do.” He angled his head away from Jun as he lowered his voice. “And who you’d like to do it with.”

  Jun’s growl was back, raising the hairs at the back of Theo’s neck and stoking that heat in his belly.

  Sam raised one of the whiskey glasses and brought the edge up to Theo’s lips. “Have a drink. I’d sure love to wet your whistle.”

  Theo took a dutiful sip, only to choke back a cough at the harsh burn and aftertaste of vaporized fuel crystals.

  Jun pulled out his pistol, knocking the glass away and spilling the potent golden liquid across Theo’s jacket. He slammed the weapon onto the table on its side, his bandaged finger on the buzzing trigger, the barrel aimed at Sam’s torso. “Cut the bullshit and give me the coordinates or I will shoot you. Still feel like singing?”

  Theo rested his fingertips on Jun’s tight wrist, a determined smile plastered on his face. He fluttered his lashes at a very unamused Sam who yanked his own ray gun out and aimed it at Jun. “What my associate means to say is that we are in a bit of a rush, and as much as I am enjoying your company, we really do need to put some bounce into our step. I would be ever so grateful if you could come to our rescue, Sam.”

  Theo let go of Jun’s wrist to try the same approach with Sam, trailing his fingers up the outer seam of his trousers from knee to midthigh, finally getting the man to cut his eyes over to him instead of blazing a hole in Jun.

  While the two men were glaring at each other, Theo had been biting and licking his lips until they were shiny and pink. He pouted them now in Sam’s direction with his head tilted exactly so, his eyes appearing larger than they really were. “Truly, just, ever so very grateful, Sam.”

  He let his fingers t
rail back down to Sam’s knee, then pulled his hand away to play with a lock of hair. Sam predictably followed the motion.

  A spark of amusement lit Sam’s face, transforming his unremarkable features until he was very nearly handsome. He gave Theo a broad wink. “All right, now. Watch out before you blow me across the room with those eyelashes. You tell Romeo over here to drop the gun, and we can talk credits.”

  Theo turned to Jun expectantly, holding his breath as several silent moments passed. At last, the buzzing clicked off, and Jun and Sam, staring into each other’s eyes, holstered their weapons with slow, steady movements.

  The amusement had fled Sam’s face, leaving it hard and blank. “Sixty credits. I don’t take Ident from Outliers, so you better have the chips.” He tensed as Jun reached into his coat.

  Jun pulled out a clinking pouch and dropped it on the table between them. “Eighty and you forget you ever saw us.”

  The pouch disappeared in a sleight of hand Theo would have loved to learn. Sam leaned forward and dropped his voice to blend in with the noise of the saloon. “Looks like we got a deal, fellas.”

  Chapter Seven

  The loading ramp rattled beneath Jun’s heavy boots as he boarded the ship behind Theo. Theo checked back over his shoulder at his approach, his breath quickening at the dark expression on his face.

  Jun gave the impression he was trying to incinerate him with his thoughts, that Theo ought to just burst into flames from the concentrated heat of his fury. Theo couldn’t decide whether to be thrilled by the attention or intimidated by the intensity.

  Both. Evidently, he was both.

  Sweat beaded along the back of his neck as Jun closed the bay doors, plunging them into the low lighting of the main cabin.

  The yellowed interior bulbs gave off a feeble glow behind dingy covers, casting deep shadows and softening edges in an imitation of candlelight.

  Theo shrugged out of his sodden jacket with a despairing sniff at the ruined material and reared back in disgust at the strong smell of cheap spirits.

  Jun snatched it out of his hands, the velvet crumpling in his fist, and tossed it to the floor with a wet plop.