Disobedience Page 5

  “Let her go,” she told him quietly. “She won’t hurt me.”

  Something like pain flashed in his eyes before he shut it down, his face clearing and voiding all emotion.

  “Do it, Conrad,” Shane ordered. Then, turning to Enyo he said, “There is no violence on my ship. Keep those claws sheathed and we won’t have any problems.”

  The Sirian snarled, no doubt taking offense to the orders.

  “It’s okay, Enyo. Do as he says,” Finn instructed quietly.

  A barely perceptible nod was the only acquiescence she gave, but apparently it was enough for Shane. He showed only the barest hint of surprise at her submission, before motioning for Conrad to release her. Though it looked like it physically pained him, the large man complied.

  Enyo pulled free from Conrad’s hold with a hiss, shooting them both a glare as she moved to Finn’s side.

  “That was intense,” Nova mused from the corner, casually examining her cuticles as though a standoff between hybrids were an everyday occurrence.

  Seeming to remember her presence, Shane glanced at the scarred doxie, doing a double take before shaking his head in bemusement.

  “Let’s give them some time, Conrad. Finn”—he sent a pleading look her way—“think about what I said.”

  She gave the captain an absent nod, her attention too occupied by Conrad’s retreating presence to formulate a genuine response.

  Without a backward glance in her direction, he kept pace with Shane’s steady strides out the door. If the big half-breed wanted to stay, he did an excellent job of hiding it. Finn tracked his broad back until it disappeared, her heart catching painfully when she lost sight of him.

  “What now?”

  Finn glanced over to find Nova already seated in the chair Shane had once occupied, legs propped up on the bed and eyeing them expectantly. Enyo’s forehead creased in annoyance at the doxie before returning her focus to Finn.

  “When will you be ready to leave? The large one’s abilities may prove problematic, but I can easily dispatch the captain.”

  Judging by the sparkle in her eye and the twitch of amusement on her lips, she seemed to be relishing the idea.

  “No. We’re not dispatching anyone. I mean it, Enyo. Most of the crew on this ship are hybrids . . . innocent ones.” Enyo’s body stilled at the revelation. “I’m not suggesting we trust these people,” Finn continued, “but they want to help us rescue others like us. They have more manpower, more resources, and they’re giving us an opportunity to use both. Not to mention they have the list of hybrids in Reliance captivity.”

  “If they’re so great, what do they need us for?” Nova asked, twirling a strand of lank brown hair. Finn’s answer came without hesitation.

  “Because a doxie and a Mud Pit thief were able to steal a hybrid prisoner from a high-security estate in the center of the Arcturians’ home planet with half the resources and less than three weeks of planning time.” Finn locked eyes with Enyo. “You’re damn right they need us. Working with them is the best play for us to make right now. If they are planning a double cross, we can keep them close, see it coming, and intervene. Until then, I say we take what they’re offering.”

  They didn’t have to like it. Finn sure as hell didn’t. The last thing she ever expected was to be stuck on Independence again, sharing close quarters with the people who had betrayed her, but Isis had been correct in her assessment.

  She’d been pushing herself too hard. Saving the hybrids was an undertaking too large for just one person.

  Or three.

  The Sirian’s mind went to work behind her eyes, her long legs carrying her over to the room’s circular window. She remained motionless as she took in the vast obscurity outside.

  “An N’Goza’s feet belong on the ground, not in the sky.” The wistfulness in Enyo’s voice surprised Finn. Finally, she turned back to face them. “I do not like this plan, but in this I will trust your judgment. We will work with this captain and his crew, but at the first sign of trouble”—Enyo’s hands shot out at her sides, her sheathed black claws elongating in one fluid movement—“we are taking the list and I will tear this ship and everyone on it to shreds.”

  Finn swallowed at the intensity in her stare.

  “Let’s just hope for no trouble then, yeah?”

  The conversation ended on Nova’s fearful squeak of agreement.

  EIGHT

  Tiri had been noticeably absent since Finn had regained consciousness, a fact the child angrily announced was due to Conrad forbidding her from being in the same room as Enyo. Even telepathically, the girl’s temper was unrivaled.

  After promising to come see her just as soon as she got her crew settled in their quarters, Tiri finally ended their telepathic connection.

  Nova seemed more than pleased to have a space all to herself—especially one as accommodating as Independence—and took mere minutes to settle into the room next to Finn’s. She’d say this for the doxie, she was turning out to be downright adaptable. Enyo, however, was proving to be a bit more stubborn.

  “I will stay here with you, N’Goza.” Her yellow eyes scanned Finn’s quarters as her matter-of-fact statement hung in the air between them. With her colorful hair tied away from her furred face, she looked even younger than Finn had first assessed.

  Finn crossed her arms and glanced meaningfully at the bed.

  “Right. And who gets the bed?”

  Enyo followed her look, quirking a multihued brow.

  “You really don’t know much about Sirians, do you?” When she didn’t answer, the sizable woman continued on a dramatic exhale. “I will be much more comfortable sleeping on the floor.”

  “Wouldn’t you also be more comfortable with a room of your own?”

  The Sirian’s eyes glinted at the suggestion.

  “I hardly think it wise to leave you unprotected in your weakened state.”

  It would seem that sometime between her rescue on Arcturus, arguing about rules, their arrival on Independence, and their three-day separation, Enyo had appointed herself as Finn’s personal bodyguard.

  She wanted to argue with the obstinate Sirian but given her recent three-day coma and history with Independence’s crew—including the attempt on her life during her last stay—Finn was having a difficult time making a case for herself. More to the point, it was kind of nice having someone in her corner this time around (someone other than an eight-year-old mind reader anyway).

  Besides, the one thing Finn did know about Sirians: they were a pack species. Being on her own without the comfort of a tribe all these years, and at the mercy of Jessup and his torments no less, must have been its own special brand of hell for Enyo.

  Finn made a show of throwing her hands in the air and rolling her eyes.

  “Okay, fine. You can stay here on one condition.” Enyo waited patiently for her to continue, not at all impressed or affected by the theatrics. “Make use of the shower while I get some rest.”

  She pointed in the direction of the bathroom and watched as a familiar glimmer of excitement flashed in the Sirian’s eyes, before she caught herself and shut it down. Finn stopped herself before the laughter bubbling up inside of her could escape.

  Casting a long-suffering grimace in her direction, Enyo stretched her neck, dormant muscles popping and cracking as she said, “If I must.”

  “You must,” Finn ordered.

  She watched the hybrid’s retreating form enter the bathroom and shut the door. When the rush of the shower’s spray registered, Finn finally tagged the gloves from her bed, turned, and made her way slowly to the door. Her strength was finally coming back to her and the desire to stretch her legs had become overwhelming. Given how long the Sirian had gone without such amenities, Finn felt certain she had plenty of time to go see Tiri and get back before her “bodyguard” was any wiser.

  As she made her way to the door, her bare fingers grazed the wall and the ship’s layout wrapped around her like a familiar blanket. Being a hybr
id certainly had its perks. Finn slipped on her gloves and passed through the doorway. Moving down the hallway, she softened her steps against the metal-grate flooring, stalking as silently as her body would allow toward the third room on the left: Tiri’s room.

  The ship’s lights hummed above her and the familiar vibrations of Independence’s inner workings filled Finn with a sense of rightness. She’d spent the last few weeks dutifully ignoring all thoughts related to this vessel and everyone on it, but now she was faced with a truth she couldn’t avoid: she’d missed this. No place—not even the Mud Pit back when Grim was still a fairytale and life had been somewhat content—had felt more like a home to her than this one.

  As if in direct opposition to her feelings, a slender figure rushed around the corner of the hall, stopping less than a meter in front of Finn. She recognized AJ’s pale skin and dark hair immediately.

  With her run of bad luck lately, Finn supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised to find herself face-to-face with Shane’s psychotic kid brother.

  “Great,” she mumbled. She knew she could handle the half-Anunnaki so long as she avoided eye contact when his black gaze began to swirl with color—she’d learned firsthand the power behind those eyes’ hypnotic blues, greens, and purples when the boy had nearly compelled her to float herself in the cold, dark abyss of space—but she was starting to regret taking off without Enyo in tow.

  Hearing her, he looked up. Shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet, he made a point to avoid looking into her eyes. His alabaster hands pushed up the sleeves of a dark gray sweater before balling into fists at his sides.

  “There’s no docking bay to float me out of on this side of the ship, AJ,” Finn pointed out darkly.

  His dark eyes darted quickly to hers and then away again.

  “You left!” The words exploded from the teenager in a cloud of manic energy, making them sound like an accusation. When she made no move to answer him, he finally met her stare fully. His black eyes held hers steady. He took a breath, his words slightly calmer as he said, “I didn’t get to say thank you.”

  Finn felt her own eyes widen and her mouth fall open but was helpless to guard her expression; his words shocked her. The angry, arrogant boy she’d grown so used to was gone, an awkward, unsure youth in his place. His stare drifted down to her gaping mouth and then back up as he spoke.

  “People are saying you’re staying.”

  Coming unstuck, she offered him a cautious nod.

  “For now.”

  Something like hope flickered across his features as he moved closer, but a low snarl rumbling from behind Finn stopped him in his tracks. Enyo’s hard voice cut through the air.

  “That’s close enough, boy.”

  That was fast.

  Finn spun, taking care to keep herself between AJ and the Sirian. Isis must’ve been busy making her new guests feel comfortable. Since showering, Enyo had traded in her rags for a clean pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

  When her eyes made it up past her friend’s new clothing, Finn snorted; she couldn’t help herself. While the Sirian’s eyes and imposing fangs promised menace, her fur and multihued hair had been hastily dried, causing it to frizz and fluff up in disarray.

  At the sound of mirth, Enyo’s gaze snapped to her and the fuzzy hybrid’s lips curled on a scowl.

  Finn grinned.

  “AJ and I were just catching up.” She turned to find the boy’s stance had widened into a defensive position as he eyed the Sirian warily. “AJ, this is Enyo. She’s part of my crew.”

  At her words, he seemed to forget the growling hybrid, his eyes shooting back to Finn.

  “You’ve got a crew?”

  She shared an amused smile with Enyo before answering.

  “We’re working on it.”

  Sensing Finn’s calm, Enyo seemed to relax a little. With no immediate threat to combat, she crossed her arms at her chest.

  “This one seems too pretty to be a hybrid,” she mused.

  AJ’s eyes narrowed at the offhand remark, his body tensing in the unrestrained anger Finn had learned to associate with him.

  “I’m half-Anunnaki and I could make you cut off your own arm and eat it if I wanted to.”

  Finn watched in alarm as they squared off on either side of her, the menace returning to Enyo’s shoulders as AJ’s eyes began to whirl in a telltale mixture of purples, greens, and blues.

  “You won’t be able to do anything if I knock you on your ass again,” Finn interrupted, her eyes focused on his nose. At the reminder of their first face-off, the color leaked from his irises, returning to their obscure black. His face reddened and his chest heaved with frustration as he warred with his temper.

  Enyo watched his struggle, her face pensive.

  “He does not know how to fight.”

  The boy’s already red face darkened several shades, his eyes darting between them like trapped prey. Before Finn had time to predict it, he drew his fist back and punched the wall of Independence with surprising force.

  “Shut up, you dog!”

  Shockingly, Enyo’s eyes softened with what looked to be pity. Seeing it there seemed to be the final straw for AJ and he turned away from them both, his heavy footfalls stomping down the hallway.

  Finn found it hard to believe Shane and Conrad would neglect to teach their brother something as necessary as how to defend himself, but given the way their guilt had led to coddling in the past, she was starting to see how such instructions may have fallen to the wayside.

  “AJ,” Finn called out to him. He stopped just before rounding the corner, but he refused to turn and face her. Taking it as a somewhat positive sign, she continued. “Do you want to learn how to fight?”

  Back ramrod straight, he lifted his head a fraction of an inch before calling back.

  “Shane would never allow it.”

  “I’m not asking what Shane will allow. I’m asking what you want.”

  Taking a deep breath, he finally turned to face her, his expression set with determination.

  “I want to learn how to fight.”

  Finn nodded once in acquiescence.

  “Fine. We start tomorrow.”

  It was AJ’s turn to look shocked. His eyes went wide, hope and disbelief warring with one another.

  “You’re going to teach me?”

  “You better rest up,” she warned him, her face stern. “I won’t be going easy on you.”

  Finn tried not to let her fatigue show. She’d have to deal with Shane—and most likely Conrad too—which would be a pain, not to mention the time and commitment involved in training an unstable hybrid with unresolved trauma and anger issues.

  But then something strange happened. As she stood there lamenting the huge undertaking she’d just piled on her own shoulders, AJ smiled. She’d never seen him smile before and if she’d thought him painfully beautiful before . . . with that smile he was devastating. It transformed his features and made him look the way a fourteen-year-old boy with his whole life ahead of him should.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised before darting around the corner and out of sight.

  Sighing, Finn turned to find Enyo’s tawny eyes assessing her.

  “The boy’s temper is going to be a problem.”

  “I don’t know, I’ve seen worse.” Finn offered her a knowing smile. One Enyo returned easily, her fangs gleaming in the artificial light.

  NINE

  They made it to Tiri’s room without further incident. The door barely had a chance to open fully before the little girl was there, green eyes wide with excitement and a sweet smile on her lavender lips.

  Finn stifled a laugh as Tiri practically bobbed in place, her tiny body unable to contain the excitement bubbling over. Her bouncing ringlets were pulled away from her face and secured with a pretty purple bow that matched her pale lavender skin. She wore pants and a short-sleeved top, her peculiar vinelike markings in plain sight.

  “Finn! Enyo! Come in! I’m
so excited you’re here.”

  Enyo cast a confused glance at Finn, who merely shrugged her shoulders and smiled, following the child into the depths of her bedroom. It looked the same as it had weeks ago: a desk littered with paper and colored pencils, an assortment of metal puzzles and stuffed animals scattered throughout, and the blindingly beautiful mural adorning the walls.

  Finn heard Enyo suck in a breath at her side and followed her gaze to the plant life Tiri had hand painted all by herself and with expert precision.

  “Pretty incredible, isn’t it?” Finn asked the Sirian.

  The warrior didn’t answer. Instead, her bemused expression softened and she turned to stare at Tiri. The child was waiting for her and stepped forward with her hand outstretched.

  “My name is Sotiri, but everyone just calls me Tiri. It’s nice to finally meet you, Enyo. I can already tell we’re going to be good friends.”

  Enyo eyed Tiri’s small hand like it might be some kind of trap and Finn finally released the chuckle building inside of her as she watched the standoff between fierce warrior and determined little girl. Tiri’s hand remained steady, her eyes focused, as she waited for the large woman to take it. Eventually, Enyo seemed to come to a decision. Extending a fur-covered hand to grasp Tiri’s, she bowed her head to the child.

  “Well met, little Tiri.”

  The girl beamed, a grin taking over her elfin face from ear to ear. Satisfied, she turned to make her way toward the desk against the wall. Watching her go with a puzzled expression, Enyo leaned into Finn and whispered.

  “How does she know my name?”

  As Tiri fiddled with the papers spread across her desk, she shouted casually over her shoulder.

  “I heard it Finn’s head.”

  Enyo’s jaw slackened and her brows rose into her multihued hairline.

  “She what?”

  “Tiri,” Finn called. “I thought we talked about this.”

  The little girl turned narrowed eyes on Finn and placed her hands on her hips.

  “It’s not mind snooping if I’m trying to save your life. Conrad says so.”