Heaven's Queen (37 page)

Rupert went still, and I grinned at him before turning back to my cutting. “You said you were on my team, right? Well, you should know I never leave my teammates behind. Anyway, if you think I busted all the way back here just to turn around, you’re out of your mind. Now”—I sliced the last strap, freeing his arms—“do you want to help or not?”

The plastic weave was barely off him before Rupert grabbed me, throwing his arms around my shoulders and hugging me so tight I could feel the pressure through my suit. It wasn’t the first time we’d been in this situation, but this time I didn’t wait for him to ask. I popped the locks on my helmet and swept it off of my own accord, rising up on my toes to meet his kiss halfway.

Just like back on Reaper’s ship, he kissed me savagely, his whole body tense like he was trying to wring out all the fear and anguish and worry. I kissed him back just as hard, sliding the hand that wasn’t holding my helmet up to run my fingers over his shaved head. Even through my suit, I could feel the soft brush of his stubble under the Lady’s sensitive fingers, and that only made me kiss him harder.

Rupert smiled against my mouth when he felt my hand on his head. “It’ll grow back,” he whispered against my lips.

“I don’t care,” I whispered back. “I hate that they did this to you, and I’m never going to let them harm a hair on your head ever again.
Literally.
Now let me go so I can finish breaking you out.”

He let me go reluctantly and I put my helmet back on, leaning down to examine our final obstacle, the plasma weight holding his feet. Fortunately, while it was heavy, it wasn’t terribly hard, and I was able to slice the thick, jellylike substance down enough that Rupert was able to wiggle his feet out no problem.

They’d really given him the full prison treatment. In addition to his shaved head, he was wearing a neon-yellow prison uniform and alarmed shackles on his feet and wrists, though they were dark thanks to the phantoms. I sliced them off next, slipping Elsie carefully between the metal and Rupert’s skin. When I was finished, he shredded the jumpsuit on his own, ripping his scales through it from neck to toes.

“Sure that’s smart?” I asked as I helped him brush away the shreds of yellow polycotton. “Black scales and claws aren’t that much less eye-catching than yellow pants.”

“I don’t think stealth is going to be an option if anyone sees us,” Rupert replied, stepping out of the tiny cell. “What’s the plan?”

“Steal Maat and get her onto a hyperdrive-capable ship.”

To his credit, Rupert took all of that with only a slight tightening of his jaw. “Anything else?”

“Isn’t that enough?” I asked, popping my visor again. Like before, the phantoms were thick as soup, but I still didn’t see Maat. That couldn’t be good. I didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to keep the power out, but my bet was not long enough, which meant we needed to move. I was about to put my visor back down and do just that when I realized the phantoms behind me were acting strangely.

Considering the events of the last few hours, this was enough to make me spin around and reach for my gun on instinct. Rupert gave me a funny look, but I just held up my hand, watching the cloud of tiny phantoms dance back and forth through the non-electrified mesh of the second high-security cell, the one I hadn’t checked. Every time they reappeared, they waved at me, almost like they were inviting me inside.

“What are you doing?” Rupert asked as I holstered my gun and stepped forward.

“The phantoms say there’s something in here,” I replied, giving him a helpless grin as I pulled the mesh aside. “I’ve learned to roll with it.”

Rupert clearly thought this was every bit as crazy as it sounded, but I couldn’t explain it any better, so I just kept going, shining my floodlight into the tiny cell. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected to find, a trapped phantom, maybe, or something to help me free Maat. Unsurprisingly, considering where we were, what I found instead was a prisoner, bound up just as Rupert had been. Unlike Rupert, though, this prisoner didn’t have one of those awful helmets, though I kind of wished he had. Even the blank metal face would have been better than the alien mask of discolored, brittle scales.

Whoever this symbiont was, he’d clearly seen better days. His scales were longer than any I’d ever seen, and the color was wrong, the normally glossy black turned dull brown in my floodlight. I opened my mouth to ask Rupert if this was one of the symbionts they were doing experiments on, the kind Caldswell had said they planned to do on Rupert, but then I saw the tip of a plastic tube jutting out from the side of the symbiont’s neck, its end ragged, like it had been shot off.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, taking a small step back. “Hello, Brenton.”

In the cell, the symbiont raised its head, its scales rattling like old paper blown by the wind.

D
evi,” Rupert said softly, placing a clawed hand on my shoulder. “Back away. His symbiont’s still enraged.”

I frowned, staring at Brenton’s buglike eyes. Their glossy surface was cloudy in my light, but I could see something behind them. I glanced at the phantoms, but they’d dispersed as soon as I pulled back the mesh, fading back into the swarm. Apparently, I was on my own.

“Let’s get him out,” I said.

Rupert’s grip tightened on my shoulder, stopping me. “That’s not a good idea.”

I almost laughed at that. “We ran out of good ideas a loooong time ago.”

I could tell he didn’t want to let me go, but he didn’t fight me when I shrugged out of his hold to start cutting Brenton loose. The old man was bound in much tighter than Rupert had been, which should have been a warning, but the more I cut, the more sure I felt that this was the right choice. After all, if anyone could be counted on to help me free and kill Maat, it would be Brenton.

Despite Rupert’s warnings, Brenton didn’t move a muscle the entire time I was cutting him down. I thought this was because he understood what was going on, but then I spotted the machine at his feet. Instead of a plasma weight to keep him down, Brenton was hooked up to an automated tank with an IV that ran under the scales by his ankle. When I pulled the tube out, I caught a whiff of the same awful, metallic smell I’d picked up when Caldswell had cut my own IV, which made me pause. Why the hell did they have Brenton on plasmex-suppressing drugs?

Once the IV was gone, Brenton was completely free, but he didn’t move until I stepped out of the way. Only then did he slump down from his spot against the wall, stepping out slowly, like an old, old man.

“Brenton,” I said softly. “Can you understand me? Do you know where you are?”

For a moment, he just stared at me, and then he nodded, his head bobbing drunkenly.

“Good,” I said. “We’re going to—”

Rupert grabbed my shoulder hard, yanking me out of the way. A second later, blinding light hit me in the face as the power came back on and the mesh I’d been holding re-electrified, falling back into place with a blast that echoed down the hall.

I jumped back into Rupert, swearing up a storm. The black mesh was now humming with electricity, and Brenton was trapped on the other side. I glowered for a second, then pulled my gun, flipping my visor back into place. “Cover your head,” I warned Rupert as my suit traced the wires to line up Sasha’s shot.

He obeyed, pulling the scales over his face. When he was protected, I pulled the trigger, plugging a three-shot burst into the three wires that held the mesh up. When the first bullet hit, the sparks flew like a firework. The second one actually started a small fire, but the third one cut the power to the grid completely, and the prison lights flashed wildly as the electricity surged. But the job was done. The mesh fell to the floor, harmless again, and I reached across it to grab Brenton.

“Come on, old man,” I said, trying not to wince when his brittle scales crunched a little under my hand. “Time to go.”

Brenton let me pull him down the hall as the three of us made for the exit, but though the lights were mostly back, none of the shields over the cells had come back on yet. That made sense; shields took a
lot
of power. The generator must still be warming up. Luckily, the power hadn’t unbusted the door I’d cracked to get in, though I could hear the broken pneumatics grinding inside the wall before the alarms started to blare. I cursed and ran faster, racing for the exit. I barely had the chance to see Nova give me a thumbs-up before we were gone, gunning it into the station proper as fast as we could.

As soon as we were in the relatively open hall, Rupert put on a burst of speed to get out in front. “This way,” he said, darting confidently around the closest corner.

I followed him gladly, relieved that I didn’t have to rely on his memories to tell me the way anymore, especially since I could hear the security around us coming back online as more and more power was restored. “How long until they get the guns back on?” I yelled at Rupert as he turned a blind corner and started up a ladder I’d only vaguely known would be there.

“Ten minutes from cold shutdown,” he answered, reaching up to punch the locked hatch in the ceiling. It folded like paper under his strength, and up we went, scrambling onto the floor above. “The cameras will be back on in five. We need to be somewhere safe by then.”

I nodded, motioning for him to lead the way while I helped Brenton. It was hard to believe that the sad creature behind me was the same powerful symbiont who’d slammed Rupert around back on Falcon 34, or even the crazed monster I’d fought in Reaper’s arena. Even after I got him up the ladder, he moved in jerks, his scales clattering like spent bullet casings with every step. In the glare of the station’s restored lights, he looked more brown than ever, sickly and brittle, his breath wheezing. I had to reach back and help pull him along several times before Rupert finally found the door he was looking for.

“What’s this?” I asked, looking the door up and down. Damn thing looked like a bank vault.

Instead of answering, Rupert opened a panel beside it and pulled a red lever. Another alarm went off when he did, but there were so many howling already I didn’t even jump, especially since the door was already opening, revealing a small storage room packed to the rafters with ammunition.

Rupert waved at me, and I didn’t wait to be asked twice before running for cover. Brenton followed more slowly, giving Rupert a wide berth. When he was through, Rupert pulled the lever on the inside wall, shutting the door. He hit a button above it next, turning off the alarm he’d added to the mix. “That should buy us some time,” he said, sliding the huge manual bolt into place.

“How much?” I asked, helping Brenton to the back of the room.

“Enough for you to tell me what we’re really doing.”

I glanced at Brenton, but he was already leaning back against the shelves, his head listing sideways, seemingly oblivious. I had no idea why the phantoms had wanted me to grab him, but it wasn’t like I could ask them, and Maat was nowhere to be seen when I shoved up my visor. Apparently, I was on my own, but since we were safe for a moment, I motioned for Rupert to join me in the far corner. Once our backs were to a wall and we were out of earshot of the door, I dropped my voice to a whisper and brought him up to speed.

I’d only meant to give him the basics, but once the story got going, I ended up telling him everything, including my interlude with the emperor phantom in the oneness and what it had shown me about their home. Rupert was far too tactful to let his skepticism show on his face, but I knew he had to be feeling it. How could he not? I mean, even
I
thought what I was saying sounded crazy. To hear me tell it, we were risking our lives to kidnap and kill the most valuable and irreplaceable plasmex user in the universe because a monster had told me to do it in a dream.

If our positions had been reversed, I would have told him he was nuts flat out, but Rupert just looked thoughtful. “And you’re sure killing Maat in hyperspace will free the phantoms while sparing the daughters?”

“That’s my hope,” I said with a shrug. “I realize it’s not a lot to go on, but—”

Rupert reached through my open visor, silencing me with a gentle stroke of his claw against my cheek. “You don’t have to explain,” he said softly. “I believe you.”

“You do?”

The words came out far more skeptical than I’d meant, but Rupert just smiled. “Of course,” he said, sliding the tip of his claw up to brush a stray curl behind my ear. “You can be frustratingly reckless, but there is always good reason behind what you do. If you’re convinced this is the right path, that’s proof enough for me.”

“And it beats prison.”

“That it does,” he said, laughing, and then his face turned serious again. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Save it until we’re safe,” I warned him. “This might still turn out to be a suicide mission.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t change a thing.”

I glared at him. “Don’t talk like—”

“It’s not talk,” Rupert said, dropping his hands to mine. “If helping you costs me my life, I count it well spent.” He leaned down, giving me that warm, loving look that always melted me into a puddle. “It’s because of you I have a life to risk in the first place.”

I dropped my eyes, unsure what to say. I wasn’t even sure there
was
an answer to a statement like that. I didn’t know how to handle being so important to someone or the fact that as Rupert spoke, I realized I’d do the same.

That might not sound like much coming from me. After all, I’d risked my neck for a whole host of reasons: kingdom, honor, pride, ambition. My whole life, these had been drilled into me as good reasons to die, honors worthy of my sacrifice, but as I stared down at our joined hands, his black claws wrapped around the Lady’s beautiful silver, I knew love was now on that list, too.

The thought made me shake in my boots. When had Rupert gotten so much power over me? And when had I stopped caring? I squeezed his hands tighter. When had this hole gotten so deep? I was still scrambling for an answer when a terrible sound made us jump apart.

The grating hiss was so awful, so inhuman, it took me a second to believe it was coming from Brenton. He was still leaning against the shelves, but his head was up now, his cloudy eyes watching us as he made that ghastly noise, but it wasn’t until I saw his chest shaking that I realized Brenton was
laughing
.