Malfunction Page 2
Something woke her.
Katia didn’t want to be woken, and she ignored the loud banging. “Piss off,” she mumbled.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty, wakey, wakey. Rise and shine.”
She thought about rolling over, had the idea of pulling her pillow over her head to block out the noise. But something was wrong with this picture. While she occasionally brought men back to her place, they never slept over. Besides, even that hadn’t happened in years. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost the urge for casual sex, and anything more was not an option. She didn’t allow people close. It never worked out.
So who the hell was in her bedroom? Trouble was she recognized that voice. Low and dark. Despite the cheerful words, it stirred a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity.
She opened her eyes, blinked in the dim light. A shadowy form loomed above her. She tried to sit up and couldn’t move. Tight bands restrained her chest and forehead, and panic churned in her stomach. Then the bands pinged open and she was free. She bolted upright, a growl escaping her throat.
“Hey, cool down, kitten,” he said. “You’re fine. Well, at least for the moment.”
She slowed her breathing as her eyes adjusted to the low light, and it came back to her. Where she was. In a cryotube on the Trakis Two. Waiting to go into space. What had gone wrong? Had they been discovered? But if that was the case, then it was unlikely to be Rico waking her up. He would have been long gone. Because if Ricardo Sanchez was good for one thing, it was looking after himself.
It seemed like no time ago that the lid had closed on her. She’d hated that, but then she’d hated the idea of dying even more. So she’d run a calming mantra through her mind until the drugs kicked in and she’d drifted off into sleep.
She pushed herself up so she was sitting on the edge then to her feet; she preferred to be able to run when she was dealing with Rico. Unfortunately, her legs gave way and hard hands grasped her shoulders and held her upright.
“Hey, take a moment. No need to move so fast.”
She went completely still in his arms, fear sending her heart rate ratcheting until she could feel her pulse throbbing in her throat. Her nostrils filled with the dark, musky scent of him.
He’d gone still as well, and she forced her gaze up—a long way up, he was at least a foot taller than she was—to meet his dark-eyed stare. His nostrils flared, and inside, her alter ego awoke and flexed her claws.
“Let me go,” she snarled.
He dropped his hold immediately, stepped back, and held up his hands, a mocking smile on his face. “Dios, don’t get your panties in a twist, kitten. Just trying to help.”
“And don’t freaking call me kitten.” She rubbed her arms as if she could erase the feel of him. Strength was returning to her limbs, her brain starting to function again. Glancing around, she could make out the cryotubes. They filled the vast room, the occupants all sleeping peacefully. Looked like she was the only one awake. Had she been double-crossed? She’d paid dearly for this place, but maybe Rico had found someone willing to pay more.
Finally, she turned her attention back to him. He was leaning against the cryotube behind him, arms folded across his chest. Dressed all in black, black pants, a black shirt—he was such a goddamn poser. His midnight black hair was pulled into a ponytail, showing off the olive skin and sharp cheekbones. He was probably the most stunning man she had ever seen. Except he wasn’t actually a man. And thankfully, she had never been attracted to him. She’d have to have a death wish. The mocking smile still curved his lips, and her eyes narrowed.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
As he pushed himself away from the cryotube, she had to fight the urge to take a step back. Best not to ever show fear.
“You know,” he said, “I was sure your first question would be ‘how long?’”
“I thought—” Obviously, her brain wasn’t quite functioning at full capacity yet. She pressed her fingers to her skull then forced the question out. “How long?”
“Five hundred years, give or take a few days.”
Five hundred years? Holy freaking moly.
“Are we there?” She could hear the hope in her voice, and she realized she’d never actually imagined this would work. While she had never spelled it out to herself, she’d gone into this not expecting to survive. That it would be a final sleep and she would never wake up. They would crash into an asteroid, or the ship would lose power and they’d drift for eternity. There was so much that could go wrong. Still, she hadn’t been able to resist. The chance to go into space, to visit new worlds and alien civilizations. She’d dreamed of space as a kid. Her favorite film had been The Empire Strikes Back. Her first crush had been Han Solo.
“If by ‘there’ you mean our brave new world, then unfortunately not.”
“So why am I awake?” When everyone else was clearly still asleep.
“Because we have a situation.”
“A situation?” She remembered now; Rico could be really freaking annoying.
“A situation you are in a unique position to assist with, querida.”
She blew out her breath. “Please will you tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Okay, but let’s go somewhere more comfortable. This place gives me the creeps.”
She did smile at that. She hadn’t known anything was capable of making Rico uncomfortable.
“And put some clothes on,” he added. “You’re too distracting.”
She glanced down at herself; she was wearing a white tank top and panties, the length of her legs bare. He was such a lech. Crouching down, she pulled her duffel bag from the storage space beneath the cryotube. She found a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and boots and dressed quickly. “Let’s go.”
She glanced around as she followed Rico, first through a set of double doors, which he opened by pressing his palm to a panel on the wall, and then along a corridor with curved gray walls and strip lighting. Coming in, she’d been too on edge to take in much of the ship, and there hadn’t been a lot to see. But then he halted beside a second set of doors, and as they slid open, she gasped.
Wow.
“This is the bridge,” Rico said.
The room was large, circular, and looked like something from the set of Star Trek.
Rico leaned closer and murmured in her ear, “Space. The final frontier…”
She flinched. His breath was cold against her skin, and she moved away and into the room, halting in the center and turning slowly. Screens filled the walls all around her, showing views into space. Darkness and light. She walked toward one, reached out, and stroked her fingers over a speck of light.
A grin tugged at her lips. It was all worth it, just for this one moment of touching the stars.
Rico cleared his throat behind her, and she turned. Off to the side was a seating area, where he lounged, his long legs stretched out, his booted feet up on the table, hands behind his head, watching her with that lazy smile on his face. “On a schedule here, kitten.”
She scowled at the name, but with one last look at the vastness of space, she wandered over to him, her footsteps slowing as she crossed the room. The place was amazing. Consoles beneath the screens flashed with intriguing lights. She wanted to know what everything did, how it all worked, how far they had come, where they were going…
Rico cleared his throat again, and she gave herself a little shake and hurried across. He removed his feet from the table, held up a flask, and she nodded then sat down opposite him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Aw—he actually sounded as though he cared. Her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. “Why?”
“Just checking. Coming out of cryo can have some…interesting side effects. But you’re okay?”
She did a quick internal check. “I think so.”
“Good.” H
e poured amber liquid into two crystal glasses on the table in front of him then shoved one across to her.
She picked it up and sniffed. “How the hell have you managed to still have whiskey after five hundred years?”
“I make my own.”
“Impressive.” She took a sip and choked. “Jesus.”
He grinned. “It’s amazing the things you can learn if you have the time.”
She studied him, her head cocked to one side. He looked exactly as he had the last time she’d seen him. Five hundred years ago. “Have you been awake since we left Earth?”
“Time to sleep when you’re dead, baby.”
“Yeah, except you’re already dead.” She took another sip, felt the glow in her stomach. Time to move things on, find out what was happening. “So this…situation. What is it and how do you think I can help?”
“You’re a detective, and I need you to detect.”
She’d been a homicide detective for the last nine years of her life on Earth, with the Metropolitan Police in London. She’d been good at her job, the best conviction rate on the force, with the uncanny ability to get into the heads of the worst people on the planet. It was a gift. Or a curse. But she’d enjoyed her work. She wasn’t sure what that made her, but definitely not squeamish. Had someone been murdered? There didn’t seem a lot of potential in such a closed environment, where the vast majority of people were asleep.
She was quite aware that Rico had killed more than a few in his time, the number probably ran into the thousands, but he was hardly likely to get her to investigate a murder he had committed.
“Tell me,” she said.
“It appears that someone has been going around murdering the Chosen Ones. Some of the cryotubes have malfunctioned. The occupants woke up and then died when the life support systems failed.”
“And you’re sure it’s murder? Not a glitch in the system? Five hundred years is a long time.”
“Maybe. The tubes malfunctioning I’d believe could be down to systems failure. But there are safeguards, alarms, backup life support… That it should all fail simultaneously is a little too much of a coincidence for my liking.”
It did sound unlikely, and she felt the first stirrings of curiosity. “But why are you interested? Why do you care if a few humans are murdered? I take it they were humans?”
“You take it right. And I care because three of the deaths happened right here on the Trakis Two. We wouldn’t have known—but they were picked up on a random systems audit. After that, they did a fleet-wide check and found other similar instances. Ten cases over a period of five years. Looks like someone is systematically picking off selected Chosen Ones.”
“What are they doing about it?” she asked. Presumably someone else would also be investigating this.
“The security officer on the Trakis One was heading the investigation—it was their audit that picked up the anomaly. As we were the first case to surface, he paid us a visit. Yesterday, in fact.”
He picked up the flask, and she held out her glass so he could top it off. He swirled the liquid in his own glass, staring at the ceiling, one hand tapping against his thigh, not returning her look. Hmm. Something else had happened. He was looking distinctly shifty. If she’d considered him capable of guilt, then she would have said that there was a definite hint of guilt lurking around him. “What did you do?” she asked.
“Me?” Wow—he appeared so innocent. “Why do you think I did anything?”
“Come on, Rico, you look guilty as shit. You did something, and if you want me to take on the case, then you’d better tell me what.”
His eyes turned cold. A shiver ran through her, but she refused to back down.
“You’ll take the case because I’m asking you…nicely.” He sort of smiled. Actually, it was more of a snarl, the corner of his mouth lifting to reveal the tip of a sharp white fang. “That could change,” he added.
She swallowed her whiskey and slammed her glass on the table. Then she leaned in closer, stared him in the eye, and a low growl rumbled from her throat. She was pretty sure she couldn’t take Rico—couldn’t take him when they’d last met, so no way could she now, five hundred years later; a vampire’s strength increased with age. That was beside the point. He held her gaze for a long time, then he sat back, breaking the contact. Tension oozed from the room. “I always liked you,” he said with a grin.
“Ugh.”
He chuckled. And she allowed her muscles to relax. One thing she did know about Rico—he liked his women willing. Thank God.
“So?” she said.
“It might just be that the security officer from the Trakis One and I had a little…altercation.”
“You killed him? Jesus, Rico, we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile.”
Rico shrugged. “He pissed me off.”
“Really?” she asked, injecting as much sarcasm into her voice as she could.
“Honestly? The guy was a total fucking dickhead. Kept on and on about how he’d known all the captains back on Earth during training, and he didn’t remember me, blah, blah, blah. Like a dog with a fucking bone. I didn’t have a choice.” He had another drink, this time straight from the flask. “But we’re okay. I shoved his body back on his shuttle, programmed it for the return trip, added a bomb, and bang! It exploded halfway back. No evidence of foul play at all.”
She was betting that someone was going to be suspicious. But maybe they’d think it was something to do with the investigation. Because how likely was it that anyone would come anywhere even close to the truth of what was going on here on the Trakis Two?
“Anyway,” Rico continued, “I was thinking it over. Fact one: the investigation isn’t going to go away—we have dead people, and the powers that be will want to know why. Fact two: sadly, the Trakis One is without a security officer since the tragic demise of Major Dickhead Caldwell. Fact three: it occurred to me that I have my very own detective on board. Apparently, the best there is at solving murder cases.”
“Me?” Of course, me.
“You. I’m offering your services.”
She kept her expression blank, because it wouldn’t do to appear too enthusiastic. But in truth, she was intrigued and couldn’t wait to get started. “You think they’ll accept?”
“We’ll have to use all our persuasive skills.” His expression turned serious. “We’ve got to be in control of this investigation. If they start sniffing around here, looking at things too closely, then we’re well and truly fucked, kitten.”
“Don’t call me…” She gave up. Telling Rico not to do something was a sure-fire way of making him do it. “When do I start?”
“Now is as good a time as any. There’s a shuttle ready and waiting to take you to the Trakis One. I’ll let them know you’re coming. One thing—make sure you steer the investigation away from this ship—plenty of other dead people to keep you busy. I’m not sure we’ll stand up to a close scrutiny.”
He was right. If anyone looked at the Trakis Two too closely, it was likely a few alarm bells would ring. Rico had done an amazing job of keeping them away for five hundred years—she’d hate to mess that up. “This shuttle—it’s not going to blow up on the way, is it?”
He smiled. “Well, not through any bomb of mine. But who knows? On the bright side, while I’m sure you’ve made a lot of enemies in your time, they’re all either asleep or dead, so you should be safe. Until you make a few more with that charming disposition of yours.”
She snarled. “Gee, thanks.”
“Just telling it like it is.” He studied her for a moment. “I think it’s the contrast that gets people. You look so…young and innocent and pretty, and then you open your mouth…”
“Piss off, Rico.”
“Just like that.” He stood up and stretched then reached down and picked up a black satchel from the floor. “All the info
we have is in here,” he said, handing her the bag. “Catch up on the flight.”
She pushed herself to her feet and stood for a moment, swaying slightly. The whiskey? But it was more than that. Something was wrong. A shiver prickled across her skin as her eyesight sharpened.
“Look at me,” Rico said, moving to stand in front of her.
She looked up.
“Mierda,” he muttered.
That didn’t sound good. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over.” He studied her for a moment then pulled a pair of dark glasses out of his pocket and slipped them on her face. “There. No problem.”
No problem? “Rico…?” she growled.
“I’ll explain en route to the shuttle. But right now, we need to get you on your way before they find someone else to take over their investigation. Come along. No time to waste.”
The bones in her fingers tingled, and she clenched her fists then opened her mouth to argue some more. But Rico was already striding away, and she hurried after him.
Tosser.
Chapter Three
Logan was finding it hard to believe; he was on a ship, five hundred years from Earth. A sense of excitement tightened his gut. Space. The final fucking frontier.
“Sergeant Farrell?”
Logan dragged his attention from the vastness of the universe and turned, went still.
A woman walked toward him, leaning heavily on a metal stick. He’d known Captain Stevens by sight back on Earth, but if it wasn’t for the captain’s uniform of black pants and a green shirt, he would never have recognized her now. She looked like someone’s great-great-grandmother on her way to a costume party.
He kept his expression blank as she halted in front of him then drew himself to attention and saluted. “Ma’am.”
Stevens had originally been a colonel in the British Air Force before she’d joined the Federation’s Security Force and volunteered for duty aboard the colony ships. Many had volunteered, and then their numbers had been whittled down by a rigorous vetting process—the volunteers had outnumbered the places a hundred to one. What the captain probably wasn’t aware of was that it had been Logan’s department who had processed the applications and overseen the background checks. Logan had reviewed many of the files, including the captain’s; he likely knew more about the woman than anyone else alive. Or awake, at least.