Khrys gasps, but I can’t stop staring, processing. When the video ends, I make Beau play it again. Marlowe didn’t have a choice after all, and all I’ve got is this impotent rage.
“I knew it.” Beau is pale but triumphant.
I collapse against the desk. “How are we supposed to help her? It’s his ship, and he’s threatening to have Marlowe arrested. They’ll take Vee from her.”
“We’ll figure something out. You should go and see her, tell her we’re working on it.” Beau frowns. “Let her know you didn’t leave.”
“Our messages to her haven’t been delivering since yesterday, so Gryphon’s either blocked us or replaced her tech.”
“Fresh start,” I say bitterly.
Khrys puts a hand on my shoulder and waits for me to look at her. “Nowdo you want to hear about that party?”
Maximus swipes his slate with a dramatic flair. “Sent.” He grins. “I had to call in so many favours to get that invitation, so please remember that when you next delegate chores.”
Khrys squeals and throws her arms around his neck. Whilst they totter around the galley, I try to swallow my nerves. Now that the plan has become real, I’m equal parts terrified anddangerously hopeful. The gala is at the manor on the Gryphon compound; it’s therefore not invitation optional. Apparently, once an Archival, always an Archival—no matter what bounties hang over your head.
The crew seem to think this is some grand romantic gesture, when I simply can’t, in good conscience, let Gryphon treat Marlowe like that. I’m not going there to sweep her off her feet; I’m going there because what he’s doing is wrong.
With the invitation arranged, I turn to the brand-new clothing stacked on the table.
“I sent you to get supplies,” I say rather gruffly.
“And we got the supplies,” Beau says hurriedly. “They’re in the cargo bay.”
“So what the hell is this?”
“Well, we heard about the party while we were at the market, and we thought we’d be proactive.”
Khrys stops at the table, pink-cheeked, and points at them. “Err, no,Beauthought they’d be proactive.”
Beau mumbles, “Snitches get stitches.”
The clothes range from ballgowns to tuxedos in a rainbow of colours and a selection of materials. It’s an expensive haul. “Where did you get the creds for this? I didn’t give you that much.”
At this, they look shifty. I narrow my eyes, bouncing my stare between them and waiting until one of them cracks. But it’s Dev who spills the beans when he sails in, drops a homemade market bag onto the counter and drapes himself over me. I’ve had more physical contact with this crew over the past day than I have with any other over my entire career. Normally, I’d find an excuse to disentangle his long limbs from mine, but it’s comforting.
He grins. “They sold stuff from theMidas.”
“Dev!” Beau snaps. “You said you wouldn’t tell.”
“No, I said I wouldn’t tellyet. I think the cat is out of the basket now, no?”
“Bag,” Julian mumbles from his place by the pantry.
“What?”
Julian lifts his blue eyes and flushes slightly when Dev teases a smile out of him. “The phrase is cat out of thebag.”
Dev floats over to him, takes his face between bronze hands and kisses him softly. “Shukran, meraya.”Thank you, my love.
Dev is full of endearments, so I don’t know whether this thing with Julian is serious or not. It’d be nice if it is, but I worry that he might end up getting his hopes up like I did, only for the inevitable end to come and hurt him.
My attention is pulled back to the table when Beau holds up a long, golden dress. “It was a good idea we did, see, because now you have options for tonight.”
I stare at Beau and Khrys, contemplating whether I have the energy to chastise their recklessness. It’s not a question of morality, but of safety. They’ve just been fired by one of the richest men in the universe; is pilfering from him the smartest ideas they’ve ever had? Certainly not.
With a sigh, I pluck the dress from Beau and fold it up carefully, then place it to the side. “This is the return pile. Make sure you get your money back before we leave. It’s not like I have anything to pay you with otherwise; you’ll need it.”
