The man's head snapped up, eyes widening with recognition. "Merc?"
They stared at each other for one suspended moment. The desert wind whipped between them. Then Mercy launched herself down the ramp, and Judd caught her in a hug that lit something acidic and foreign in Zane's chest.
Something was wrong with him.
His vision sharpened to unnatural focus on Judd's hands spanning Mercy's back. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Heat built beneath his skin, threatening to manifest as flame if he didn't regain control. His fingers curled into fists, knuckles whitening as he fought the urge to stride forward and separate them. The unfamiliar sensation clawed at his ribs like a living thing, demanding action he couldn't name.
Was this some side effect of the neuro-cuffs? Some delayed reaction to the scrambling?
He followed more slowly, trying to identify this bizarre compulsion to separate them. The man was clearly no threat. Just an old friend greeting someone he clearly knew. There was no logical reason for Zane to want to step between them, to remind Judd exactly who had protected Mercy through days of captivity.
No reason at all for this bitter taste in his mouth as he watched them pull apart with matching grins.
His hand moved without conscious thought, reaching out to touch her, to mark his claim in some small way. He caught himself before making contact. His palm tingled with the phantom sensation of her skin, fingers flexing uselessly in the empty air.
She wasn't his. Not yet.
One desperate kiss didn't change that, no matter what his instincts screamed.
"How have you been?" Judd's gaze swept over the stolen cruiser with professional interest. His eyes lingered on the scorch marks along the hull. "Seems you've done well for yourself."
Mercy snorted. "That's a long story." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the bruise that darkened her cheekbone.
That was enough catching up.
"Do you think you can make that disappear quietly?" Zane kept his tone casual as he nodded towards the ship and didn't reach for credits—not that he had any on him. Judd knew payment would be forthcoming. That was how this worked.
Judd blew out a breath through his teeth. "It's a bit beautiful to go to waste." His fingers traced the shuttle's sleek lines.
"I stripped out the nav tracker," Mercy said, "but there's no telling what else Horris put in there. If you're not opposed to a bunch of pirates chasing you down, it's yours."
"You do live an interesting life." Judd's weathered face creased with amusement.
"Do you have someplace for us to stay?" Zane wanted to be gone. Fast.
"Alma's got you covered." He nodded toward a Kellian woman in a Saffron Court uniform waiting by the entrance.
They followed the woman through corridors that managed to be both opulent and discrete. Soft carpeting muffled their footsteps, and the walls displayed slowly shifting holographic art that responded to their movement with subtle color changes. The air smelled of expensive flowers, nothing like the recycled atmosphere they'd been breathing for days.
Zane barely noticed the decor, but Mercy's head swiveled constantly, taking in the gilt fixtures and hovering light sculptures.
"Nice place," she said.
He shrugged. "I can show you nicer."
She gave him a strange look he couldn't quite interpret.
Alma stopped at a door that looked identical to all the others, pressing her palm to the scanner. The lock disengaged with a soft musical chime, and the door slid open. Behind it was a suite decorated in warm golds and deep reds.
Rich fabrics draped the windows, and plush furniture arranged around a central sitting area invited relaxation. Fresh flowers filled crystal vases, their perfume mixing with the subtle scent of expensive soaps from the bathing chamber. By Saffron Court standards, it was modest. By any other measure, it was luxurious.
"If you need anything, please let us know. As requested, we've provided clothing and other essentials." Alma gestured toward packages arranged on the bedroom's expansive bed, each wrapped in the resort's signature golden fabric.
"Thank you."
She departed with respectful silence, leaving them alone in sudden quiet. Mercy walked through the space like she was cataloging exits and defensive positions.
Then, as if someone had cut her strings, she collapsed onto a chaise lounge. The fine fabric molded around her frame, and for the first time in days, her shoulders dropped from their defensive hunch.
