To his surprise, he wasn’t content with scraps from her table. Never would be. In the hole where he’d languished for thirty turns, going quietly mad by millimeters, he’d come to the conclusion that he both wanted and deserved something better. He muttered about getting a drink, and neither Tam nor Einar watched him go, so apparently, he’d kept up a flat expression. Jael poured a mug of the strong liquor and took a seat at one of the other tables.

Since he wasn’t paying much attention to his companions, he was surprised when Martine drew her chair over beside him. She clicked her drink against his. “Here’s to surviving when the other bastards didn’t.”

“Cheers to that,” he said.

“So what’s up with you and the Dread Queen?” the woman asked.

Not shy, this one.

“Why?”

“You spent an awful lot of time holed up with her while she was recuperating. I thought there might be a reason.”

There was, he thought. I was saving her life.

He shrugged. “I have some medical background. Tam and Einar thought it was best if I supervised her care.”

“You did a good job, then. She’s up and around faster than anyone expected.” The woman’s dark eyes twinkled, a contrast to her stark features and sharpened teeth. “I lost a week’s liquor rations when she pulled through. You ought to make that up to me.”

“I take it you have some suggestions, bright eyes?”

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Her smile flashed; he could tell she liked the silly nickname. Some women had a partiality to it. Others fluffed up like irate cats, hissing and spitting until he convinced them he meant no disrespect. Oddly, it was impossible to tell which way they’d swing by their appearances. Sometimes women who looked like Martine were unexpectedly girlish.

“If you hadn’t noticed, women are a minority here,” she said bluntly. “I lost my man recently. I can take my pick because I’m honest, clean, and I don’t have anything that’ll make your dick fall off.”

Jael laughed. “That’s the most original proposition I’ve ever received.”

“Chuckle now. Just wait ’til you develop a permanent callus on your wanking hand.”

“I wasn’t underestimating your value,” he assured her. “I’ve no doubt you’re a pearl beyond price.”

“That nonsense won’t fly with me. I’m not looking for pretty words or declarations of love. That’s all bullshit anyway. Chemicals in your bloodstream make you think somebody matters more than they do.”

Jael recalled speaking almost the same words to somebody else, turns ago. He wondered if she’d felt sorry for him then. His overall stance on romantic entanglements hadn’t changed, but now it saddened him to believe people were incapable of constancy. Yet he’d seen too much pain and suffering to imagine human beings were innately good—and Perdition only underscored the capacity for wickedness.

“You were upset when they killed your man,” he said, probing.

Martine practically snarled at him. “Because he was mine, not because I loved him. I counted on him for sex and company—and to have my back in a fight. If you’re looking for more than that in here, you’re crazier than Wills.”

Since the soothsayer was currently holding an animated conversation with a maintenance bot of very limited programming, it was a compelling argument. Jael lifted one shoulder, forcing away the lingering sense of betrayal. “I’m not seeking anything in particular, bright eyes.”

Except a way out of here.

But he’d had enough of people telling him that was impossible, so he didn’t share his intention to escape. Even if I have to pull this place apart, bolt by bolt, I’m not staying. There was always a way if you fought hard enough, long enough. Sometimes, the ferocity of his resistance carved a new path. If that was what it took, so be it.

“Consider my offer,” she said, downing the rest of her drink. “Not too long, mind. There’ve already been others asking if I want a new man in my bed.”

He offered a wink. “None as pretty as me, I bet.”

Martine tilted her head, inspecting him. By the time she finished, he suspected she knew exactly how he looked naked—and what he could do with his equipment. “That’s true. But there are other considerations.”

“Like what?” He raised a brow.

This should be enlightening.

“Some things, a man should figure out on his own. Another round?”

At his nod, she stood and refilled their mugs. The alcohol was strong as hell and tasted disgusting. There was no point in drinking except to blend in. So he downed a few mugs and laughed in the right places, trying to ignore the hot, red coal in his chest. People can’t be trusted. No matter how many times he learned this lesson, he was like a dumb animal, just as they’d said in the labs. Always, someone managed to get under his skin and wound him again.

By the time the Dread Queen returned, Martine was perched on his knee, feeling no pain. It amused him to see such a dangerous woman laugh so hard over an improbable story related by a drunken convict. When she saw them, Dred stilled in the center of the hall, eyes intent. He wondered if he was supposed to set Martine aside, heel to her like a dog now that she’d returned at last. He met her gaze across the room, smiled, and lifted his glass in a silent toast.

Then, deliberately, he set his hand in the small of Martine’s back and turned away.

31

King of Infinite Space

I can’t wait to get him alone.

Eagerness made Dred hurry; her boots rang on the metal floor as she strode into the hall, searching for him. Part of that anticipation sprang from human physiology. She wanted to celebrate their triumph in the most elemental way possible . . . and she’d chosen to celebrate with him because of the complex web that bound them. Sex would be different, more intense, with someone who had saved her life. And I saved his, too. Maybe those bonds should make her run even faster in the opposite direction, but she was curious—

Found him.

Jael’s hand was elegant on the other woman’s spine, a silent message. She turned away slow enough that no one would remark a reaction, spoke a few words to some nearby Queenslanders. Rightfully, they were celebrating the win with lots of liquor. She wished she had that same freedom.

Once she was sure her departure wouldn’t be deemed strange or abrupt, Dred wheeled and went in search of other business. She was too proud to hole up in her quarters—and besides, she had work to do. The Dread Queen never rested. Fortunately, nobody knew that she’d planned to take Jael to her bed; and it would stay that way. If he preferred Martine, so be it.




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