“What brings you to my room?” he asked. “It’s the middle of the night shift.”
His nostrils twitched as he got a whiff of her scent. It wasn’t pleasing; she smelled like chemicals. She used dye in her hair, the cheapest stuff on the market, he’d bet.
Black. Jet black. It was so unnatural against her pale skin that it made her look sickly under the bright ship lights. And the way she kept her hair cinched tight in a bun made her features sharp, cold.
Her gaze skidded away. “I was looking for the lounge.”
Lie.
His eyes narrowed. Why is she lying?
“You passed it,” he kept his voice level, stepping out of his room and pointing down the hall. “It’s the first room on your left coming up the stairs.”
The door to the lounge was always open… The lounge was impossible to miss coming from the stairs. So why was she in front of his cabin?
And how the hell had he not known? Hysterian bristled.
“Yes. Right,” she coughed, straightening her uniform.
He couldn’t help but notice how it conformed to her curves, or lack thereof. He asked for a woman to be on his crew, hoping for a veteran, or a matron to soften the male dynamic. Studies showed that having a feminine presence did well for keeping morale up on the long flights. When he saw Dear’s picture, he hired her without reading her resume. Her severity was perfect, her plainness almost comforting. He’d never be tempted to touch her. If someone on his crew wanted to pursue her, that was up to them, though he wouldn’t be thrilled having a couple on his ship.
“I knew that,” she muttered. “I’ll head there now.” She scurried away.
“Dear, is there a problem? Something you want to tell me?” he asked.
She stilled.
Is that why she’s here?
She turned back to face him. Brown eyes met his. Eyes that didn’t belong on such a frigid woman. For a moment, he thought he saw anger creep into her features.
“There’s no problem. I just got caught up in my head and missed it. It’s been a long day. Thank you for your help, Captain.” She turned to leave again. “Goodnight.”
He wasn’t buying it. He always knew when someone was lying. It was what made him so good at interrogation… Torture.
He stepped toward her, and the door closed behind him. “I’ll walk you there.” He didn’t like being lied to. Whatever Dear was searching for, he was going to find out.
“There’s no need. I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said.
He joined her anyway. “It’s fine.”
“Captain…”
But he continued to walk and she went silent, following him.
He knew everything about the Questor and its specs, its layout. Every detail of his ship was in his head, permanently in his memory banks. If Alexa Dear was searching for something, it had to be in his quarters or the bridge. There was nothing else this far down the hallway.
Nothing pertinent was accessible. She’d have to be a genius hacker or a spy. He couldn’t even hack his ship or the systems Nightheart set in place. So, why else would she be standing in front of his cabin? Only someone seeking death would spy on a Cyborg in his domain.
Dear didn’t seem the type to do something so idiotic.
Hysterian stilled. She was looking for me.
The shadowy phantom female in his mind, the one he pictured screaming his name earlier, morphed...
Without glancing her way, he eradicated the picture of her in such a state. It wasn’t safe. For him but especially not for her. And she’s not my type.
He usually fantasized about supple women with soft curves. Women with sun-kissed skin that were warm and inviting. He imagined sunspots he could kiss, tan lines his tongue could trace. A female who’d never spent any of her life in the dark cold of space, and had never been hurt by death, drugs, or violence.
An unattainable woman. One he had yet to encounter. Someone happy, perhaps naïve, and loyal.
All too soon, they were outside the lounge. Daniels was gone.
Hysterian stepped aside to let Dear pass through.
“Thank you,” she muttered without meeting his gaze.
“You’re welcome.”
When she walked by, he got another whiff of her hair dye. His systems flushed it out but not before he winced.
She stopped in the middle of the room and turned to face him. For some reason, he stood there and stared back at her. She was a sliver of darkness in an otherwise white and gray room.
She cleared her throat. “I’m good now. I really am sorry. It won’t happen again, Captain.”
Hysterian shook himself, nodding. “Make sure it doesn’t. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
He turned and made his way back to his quarters, deciding he was going to need another shower. Hot or otherwise, because in the back of his mind, Alexa had come to see him.
And he wasn’t sure why…
Four
She watched from her station as Hysterian waited for Horace in the hallway outside the menagerie. He checked the battery of his laser pistol then attached it to the belt at his hip. From where she sat, she could see the open armory behind him.
They’d landed on Luxor thirty minutes ago.
It had been three days since the encounter with Hysterian outside his quarters.
Alexa curled her fingers where her hand rested on her thigh, trying not to tap her foot. Hysterian looked at her, and her eyes shot to the screen in front of her. When Alexa peered up a moment later, he was staring at her.
She stiffened, nodded once, and turned away. Whether he continued to watch her afterward, she had no idea. All she knew was that she’d been on edge for days, kicking herself for being so stupid.
I knew better.
I shouldn’t have approached his door.
She had anyway. She’d been on her way to the bridge—a nightly stroll, she called it—but had paused when she came across his quarters.
Part of her wanted to see if her wristband would give her access if she neared, but a bigger part of her wanted to test fate. She was finally close to her target, after years of chasing him, and that other little part of her, the piece that couldn’t believe her luck, wanted to see him. Alexa shook herself.
They’d been in space for days since then, and she hadn’t been in the same room as him once.
Cyborgs are supposed to be heroes, but they’re fucking villains. To an entire species, Cyborgs are devils incarnate. But up close, Hysterian looked like a normal man. A strange, albeit tall man, with dark, twitchy eyes, but a man all the same.
A man with a body of metal. A being ran partially by code.
Still, she had to chance upon seeing him. She needed a reminder for why she was here.
Because she’d been focused on doing her job, and doing a good job at that.
That, and there wasn’t any place on the ship the crew was told to stay clear from. The armory and medical chambers weren’t accessible without a manual punchcode, but they were allowed to use the spaces when needed. She wanted to see if that was true.
Fortunately, the armory and medical chambers weren’t places she cared to go to. If she had a choice, she’d stay clear of the medical facilities entirely. Her medical files were on record, but they’d been forged. She paid a lot of money to a doctor on Elyria for that. Almost a year’s worth of wages due to the law they were both breaking. She had to make it worth it for him, though she was certain the doctor had done the same things for others.