“Which means I have time to tell you the story.” He opened one of the cabinets, pulling out a robe in deep burgundy and tossing it to her. “You should dress. You’re shivering.”
She was. The thin slave gown offered no protection against the chill of the recycled air, and her bare feet had gone numb against the metal deck. She hadn’t noticed until he pointed it out. He bent down and held out his arms for the now sleeping baby.
“I’ll hold her while you change.”
She hesitated for only a second, then carefully placed the baby in his arms. When her fingers brushed against his warm, fur-covered skin, a shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the temperature.
“Turn around,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
His eyebrows rose. “Modesty? After everything?”
“Turn. Around.”
He obeyed, but not before she caught the flash of amusement in his eyes. She quickly stripped off the flimsy gown and pulled on the robe he’d given her. It was far too big for her, but the fabric was soft and warm, and she belted it around her waist with a sigh of relief. When she turned back, the sight of the big, dangerous-looking male cradling the tiny silver baby made something in her chest hurt.
“Better?” His voice carried a teasing note that she found both charming and irritating in equal measure.
“Better.”
His gaze swept over her with an appreciation he didn’t bother to hide. “The color suits you.”
“Flattery isn’t going to make me trust you.”
“No?” He moved closer, close enough that she could see the individual strands of golden fur along his jaw, the faint scars that crossed his torso. “What would?”
Honesty,she thought.Answers. Some indication that you’re not going to abandon me on the nearest planet the moment I become inconvenient.
“You could start by telling me the truth about the baby.”
His expression flickered. He glanced at the infant in his arms and something like conflict passed through his eyes. He passed the baby back to her, then settled onto the bench next to her, his long legs stretched out, his tail curling around his ankle. “You said the Grorn mentioned the Vault?”
“Yes. What is it?”
“Most people would tell you it’s a legend. The greatest treasure in the known galaxy, sealed away behind the Serpent’s Maw eons ago by a civilization that died before most spacefaring species learned to walk upright.”
“But you don’t think it’s a legend?”
“No. I’ve seen it.” He hesitated, then gave a half-shrug. “More accurately, I’ve seen the Serpent’s Maw and the path to it. I haven’t passed through the Serpent’s Maw. No one alive has passed through it.”
“But you believe that the Vault is there, and that it contains that treasure.”
It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “Yes. Although no one is sure what the treasure actually consists of.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Precursor technology, powerful beyond anything we currently have. The Grorn believe it has the power to perform a divine transformation and remake the galaxy in their image. Which is what makes them especially dangerous.”
“They’re religious fanatics.”
“Yes.”
“And the baby?”
“They believe they need seven biological Keys to open the Vault. They’ve spent centuries hunting those Keys. I suspect that they already have two within their possession. There is a third that they do not control.”
“And she’s the fourth?”
His jaw tightened. “Yes. A living genetic cipher, engineered by whoever built the Vault to be the literal key to its locks.”
