CHAPTER FOUR
Sebastian hadn’t wanted to be alone with Ren.
It had just worked out that way. Everyone else was busy getting the ship ready to depart or buying last-minute supplies with their new employer’s ready supply of credits, so when Ren boarded the ship, carrying several bags, Sebastian was the only one around. Having Ren there without his glaring chaperone was a refreshing change of pace, but it being just the two of them might lead to all sorts of questions that Sebastian wasn’t prepared to answer.
Fortunately, Ren seemed to be in full aristocratic mode — face blank, posture correct, manner indifferent. Sebastian found himself trying to fill the silence as he led Ren through the ship to where most of crew had their quarters. Heavy doors lined the corridor, capable of being sealed in case the ship lost air.
“We’ve got a room for you — you remember the crew quarters? It’s not big but serviceable. We’ve been doing some shuffling around lately, so you’re in luck that we have space. Mags and Bo have that big stateroom in the aft, and the doctor’s set up quarters for herself in the office off the sick bay.”
“Bo Chen, yes. And Dr. Stevenson.” Ren spoke quietly to himself, like someone who was trying to memorize names.
“We mostly go by first names, so the doctor is Lydia,” Sebastian said. “Rylan — the large, grumbly one — is the only stickler for titles around here. He’s former military but remains overly fond of hierarchies. You’ll have to watch out or he’ll be curtsying or saluting you at every chance.”
“That’s unnecessary and somewhat absurd.”
“So we don’t have to call you Your Highness or Your Muscledness?”
The look Ren gave him was frosty. “Even on my planet we don’t go in for that sort of thing. There, I’m Prince Ren. Here, I’d prefer just Ren.”
“I’ll pass the word along.”
There was a muffled thump from behind one of the hatch-like doors and they both jumped. Sebastian sighed. It seemed that some of the crew had finished their duties early.
“That would be Rylan and Jaime’s quarters,” he said by way of explanation, hoping to hurry Ren along.
There was an even louder thud, right up against the door, and Ren eyes widened in alarm. “Are they all right?”
He started to reach for the door’s handle, and Sebastian quickly caught his hand. “I really don’t think you want to do that. They like to utilize every bit of space in their room. Creatively and vigorously.”
“Oh,” Ren said. He looked embarrassed but perhaps beneath that also a bit intrigued. Sebastian realized that he was still covering Ren’s hand with his own and that the other man’s skin was warm. He dropped his hand and proceeded down the corridor.
“So, well, yes, that’s part of the reason for the shuffling, but don’t worry, Kaz is between you and them. She’s quiet; her scowls can’t penetrate walls.” He opened the door for Ren and gestured grandly at the small and stark room. “I know it’s not much, but you do have your choice of bunks. Feel free to decorate.” Sebastian wondered if he’d crossed the line from charming patter to babbling and shut up.
Ren turned around once and then set one bag down on the room’s only chair and the rest on the floor. Some of the tension seemed to leave his shoulders. “It’s fine. Perfect even. I don’t want any sort of special treatment.” He raised his chin. “As long as my every command is obeyed, we’ll get along fine.”
Sebastian looked at him blankly, and Ren sighed. “That was a joke, Sebastian.”
“It was an excellent one, Your Worship. We may need to work on your delivery — just a shade too much dead in the deadpan.” Without realizing it, Sebastian had stepped closer to Ren and was smiling, the slight difference in their heights causing him to tilt his face up, and Ren, looking down, was starting to smile back, just a little.
It hit them both in the same moment, the memory of standing close and smiling at each other. Ren’s face shuttered, turning cold as he stepped back. Sebastian stepped away too, which, due to the smallness of the room, put him at the door. He lingered.
“If you need anything else—”
“I’ll be able to find it.” Ren opened his bag, turning away from Sebastian in dismissal. “It’s not as though I’m likely to get lost. After all, it was my ship.”
Mags found Sebastian in his quarters about an hour later and without a word poured herself a glass of wine to match his own before sitting down in the other, recently cleared, chair.
“Why do all my exes hate me?” he asked. “Don’t answer. I have a good idea, and in some cases, a handwritten list of reasons.”
She sipped at the wine. “Not all.”
“But enough that it’s a pattern.”
“So is that what he is then? An ex?”
“Not exactly.” He looked up at one of the wall hangings he had covering some of the uglier angles of the room; it brought him no comfort, because it didn’t provide any cover for the ugly things he had done. “I met him four years ago in some dingy outpost. I was in a very bad way, between engagements and out of credits and favors. He was looking to hire a crew. I pegged him as a rich kid right away. I wasn’t aware of how rich, but still. You know the type. Trying to act all worldly but desperate for a taste of the big scary galaxy that they’ve only heard about in stories.”
She regarded him dryly. “I’m sure you gave him that taste.”
“I wasn’t planning to sleep with him. Not at all.” He sank lower in his chair. “But he had this smile. Like a sun cresting over the hull of the ship: warm and hopeful all at once.”
“Doesn’t seem like the smiling type.”
Sebastian stared gloomily into his wine. “Another thing I can be blamed for, I’m sure.”
“So you stole the ship.”
“I had my reasons. They seemed like good ones at the time, but then they always do. I’d hoped — wished — that he’d forget about me.”
She gave his booted foot a firm thump with her own. “Sebastian. The past is done, you can’t change it. Moping and drinking are only tolerable from you for half a day, at most, and not when we’ve got a job. What’s more, we need this. Not just for the money — that bounty your royal ex has on the ship has been no end of trouble. Getting it lifted will be worth whatever lingering guilt you have to deal with.”
“You’re right, Mags.”
She smiled her disarmingly sweet smile. “Of course I am. Now finish your wine and then put it away for the duration.”
He sighed but poured a little more wine into his glass and a lot in hers, finishing off the bottle. “Do you really think we can pull off this job?”
Mags considered and then shrugged before taking a long drink of wine. “Stranger things have happened.”
BuzzyBrand was the worst tasting fake coffee in the galaxy, but it made up for it in caffeine and cheapness. Sebastian poured himself a generous cup and stifled a yawn. They had finally got the ship underway last night, and Ren was seemingly determined to get full value out of his ship of thieves, insisting on a meeting first thing to go over details of the plan. They’d only come up with the vaguest of outlines earlier, as Sebastian never liked to discuss sensitive matters while in port. Also, the fewer people who knew the particulars the better.
“Do you trust Zaria?” he asked Ren bluntly, sitting to face him down the long length of the table. The rest of the crew was sleepily sitting around the table or clearing the breakfast dishes — minus Kaz who was piloting, with a few extra zigzags and complications to throw off anyone following who didn’t already know where they were going. That Zaria woman unfortunately did.
Ren looked surprised. “She has served our government — my family — for years. I’ve known her since I was a child.”
Sebastian lifted a shoulder. “Nine times out of ten a theft like the one you’re describing is an inside job. Getting herself sent along to babysit you would be a smart move.”
“Her loyalty is not in question,” Ren said firmly.
Sebastian started to open his mouth to say something about Ren’s tendency to trust the wrong people, but the tiny part of his brain that wasn’t self-sabotaging and self-loathing kicked in just in time to shut him up. Mags followed with a literal kick under the table a half second later.
“Fine. Moving on,” Sebastian said, smiling tightly.
Ren frowned but nodded before taking a sip from the coffee mug near his elbow. Ren was too polite to make a face, but he did swallow carefully and set the mug down well away from him. He squared his shoulders as he looked down the table, like he was facing an ordeal rather than just talking to people who were technically his employees.
“Yes, well,” Ren said, “as I told you before, we don’t know how the Heart was taken out of Arcadia, but we do know who it was delivered to.”
He reached into the pocket of his dark coat and pulled out a small device the size of his palm. Ren pressed a button on the side and carelessly slid it down the table. From it rose a three-dimensional projection of a man’s face, rotating slowly so that everyone could see the different angles.
Sebastian forgot to look at the projection in his surprise at Ren’s ease with such expensive tech. He’d seen holo projectors before, of course, but they’d all been big, stationary machines, used by casinos and brothels to advertise their wares. For someone to have one that was portable and for personal use felt like the decadence of old Earth. Sebastian briefly felt like the poor farm boy he’d once been.
He wasn’t the only one to react to Ren’s toy. Both Jaime and Simi leaned forward eagerly across the table to study it.
“That is so cool,” Simi said. “I haven’t seen one that tiny — outside of a museum, of course. And the holo quality is sweet! How much power does it use?”
“Probably enough to run several pieces of medical equipment,” Lydia put in sourly. “Or pay for them.”
Through the moving holo, Sebastian could see Ren look like he was trying to shrink back into his seat, clearly not prepared for the reaction he’d received.
“Focus, people,” Sebastian said. “And I mean that quite literally. Here’s our target.” He waved a careless hand at the holo but studied the face closely. It was an arrogant face, solidly built, with lips parting to sneer in the moving image. The man seemed to be ten or so standard years older than Sebastian, in his mid-forties, with a streak of gold running through the right side of his carefully combed and waved dark hair. It set off the man’s medium brown skin and precisely trimmed goatee. Everything about him seemed carefully and artfully arranged - except for the line of a scar that ran from his left temple, bisecting one arched brow, to end in the middle of his left cheek. It was an affectation, as much as the hair was — scar removal was easy for those with the credits to pay for it.
“Anil Graven,” Ren supplied from the other side of the holo. “Trader in antiques of questionable provenance. According to our sources, he’s planning to hold an auction on Fortuna in the very near future. The Heart is said to be one of the items he’s selling.”
“We’ll be in Fortuna in under three days,” Sebastian assured him. “Then we’ll find out exactly where he’s keeping the jewel.”
“Hmm,” Mags said in exactly the mild tone that Sebastian knew from experience meant huge fucking problem.
Bo looked at her and then at the holo. “Oh yeah,” he said. “That guy.”
“You know him?” Rylan rumbled.
Mags sighed. “I was supposed to do a job for him maybe seven or eight years ago.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Supposed to?”
“We had a disagreement about the choice of targets.”
Bo smiled fondly. “After getting to know Graven, Mags decided it should be him.”
“Clearly I didn’t kill him,” Mags said.
“Did you give him that scar?” Jaime asked with an equal measure of concern and awe.
“No, he already had it. But he wasn’t happy with me giving up the contract, and he’s the type to hold a grudge. He’ll most likely recognize me, and Bo, even after all this time.”
“All right, so you’ll both avoid contact. Stay on the ship as much as possible. Disguises if you need to go out,” Sebastian said.
Simi grinned at Mags. “I could help dye your hair. Maybe to match your eyes?”
“I’ve got a few other tricks, Simi, but thanks.”
Bo nodded. “Sometimes we like to dress up.” He added casually, “Mags has a whole set of wigs.”
Rylan choked on his coffee.
“I don’t understand how you’re so prudish,” Lydia said to Rylan, eyebrows raised. “I had to move quarters because of your sex life.”
“Hey,” Jaime put in, “it’s not our fault that the walls are so thin.”
“Thick enough to withstand a hull breach,” Simi said and snickered. “But I guess not as thick as—”
“Planning!” Sebastian rapped the table sharply with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. “Criminal nefarious plans to outwit nefarious criminals.” He was glad he couldn’t quite make out Ren’s face through the still moving holo image; he could only imagine he was regretting not having Sebastian and his crew arrested. “We’re going to keep it simple,” Sebastian said quickly. “Ren and I will be potential buyers.”
“What do you mean?” Ren said.
“You need backup,” Mags said at the same time.
“Rylan and Jaime will come with us,” Sebastian said to her. “It’s pretty much what we discussed yesterday. We need to assess Graven’s security, see exactly where he’s holding the valuables. Posing as rich buyers and inspecting the merchandise is the easiest way.”
Ren seemed agitated. “I don’t think — why do I need to be involved?“
“You wanted to supervise,” Sebastian said. “What better way to make sure I get the job done than by coming along for the ride?” Stupid Graven’s face was right in the way of seeing why Ren was so stressed.
“But I’m — not like you.”
Sebastian was getting annoyed. “A criminal, you mean? All you have to do is talk to other rich people about how much money you’re planning to spend. That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Hoarding wealth is more criminal than smuggling or stealing,” Lydia added unhelpfully.
Sebastian reached for the holo projector, but it was too far away. “Jaime,” he snapped. “Can you turn that damned thing off?”
Jaime didn’t move or even blink, but immediately the image disappeared, and the projector was just a small dark rectangle on the table, leaving Sebastian looking directly into Ren’s eyes. But those brown eyes darted over to look uncertainly at Jaime.
Sebastian realized his mistake. He’d gotten too used to Jaime and his abilities and forgotten that to most people he was someone to be feared, even shunned. Sebastian was a little disappointed to think that Ren was most people.
“Oh, yes,” Sebastian said airily, because for once he could feel morally superior. “Jaime’s a wizard.”
“That’s not a scientifically accurate term,” Jaime said with a sigh. “But yes, that’s what I am.”
“Problem?” Sebastian asked as Ren continued to stare.
Ren blinked, taking in not only Sebastian’s sardonic gaze, but also the way Rylan was folding his arms and starting to glare, along with the wary and quizzical expressions of the others around the table. Ren shook his head, and as Sebastian watched, it was almost like a mask slipped over his features, making him appear expressionless.
“Of course not,” he said. He inclined his head toward Jaime. “Forgive my surprise.”
“Sure,” Jaime said, looking a little uncomfortable under Ren’s regard.
“But is it wise for you to expose yourself to the dangers of this mission?” Ren asked him carefully.
“Uh, I don’t know.” Jaime turned to Sebastian. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Complete the picture,” Sebastian said, smiling and determined to ignore Ren’s weirdness. “Rylan’s our bodyguard, and you’ll be our personal black-market wizard. It’s a real status enhancer.” Jaime started to make a face. “And if you’re with us, you’ll be able to assess the security tech. Tell us exactly what we’re dealing with.”
Jaime nodded. But Ren still looked uneasy.
“I’m still not sure if I’m the correct choice,” Ren said, sounding stubborn behind all that courtesy.
Sebastian wished it were early enough for a glass of wine. And that he was still drinking. “Ren. May I speak to you privately?” He pushed his chair back from the table.
For a moment Ren looked as though he expected the full table of people to get up and clear the room, but then he stood up and followed Sebastian to the door.
Sebastian walked a few paces down the corridor before turning to face Ren. “This isn’t going to work if you’re questioning my judgment constantly.”
Ren looked taken aback. “That was not my intention.”
“Then what’s the problem? You won’t be in any danger. This is just to get us in to case the location.”
“I’m not frightened,” he started with some heat, but then took a breath before continuing reasonably. “I just don’t see why I’m a good choice for this.”
“It has to be you. Mags and Bo can’t be seen. The good doctor prefers to eat the rich. Simi has no poker face, and Kaz is more likely to punch someone than chat with them.”
“Why do you need two buyers at all? You can do it on your own.”
“Because I’m not like you.“ Sebastian shrugged self-deprecatingly. “I may appear to be delightfully charming, but most people can see me for what I am. A grasper, a bounder. I prefer rogue, but what it comes down to is I was born poor, raised that way. I don’t have the ease that the truly powerful have.”
Ren huffed out a breath. “If you think I have anything like ease—”
“But you know how to fake it well.” He leaned in. “The two of us make sense, Ren. I’ll be the scoundrel, getting his hands dirty so you don’t have to, and you’re the money.”
Ren looked away, a flash of something unhappy moving briefly across his face. “Of course. That’s why I’m here.”
“To Graven and his crowd, that’s all you’ll appear to be. But you’ll know you’re doing this to help your home. For duty, honor, and all that.” He waited until Ren raised his eyes and then lifted the corner of his mouth in a lazy smile. “What’s more, I promise you, you’re going to have fun.”