Page 13 of The Haunted Alien’s Mate

“I could break it off.” I grunted as the column fought back.

“That would be like pulling the tail off a lizard. Sure, it’ll grow back, but the lizard will hate you. If you want to be useful, keep holding that steady so I can access the innards without being dry roasted.”

I hissed out my frustration. How could someone so small think she could best my ship? “I could make you leave. I should have stopped you from coming into this room.”

“This storage room, you mean? Why? What’s so scary in here?” She arched a brow at me, sweat trickling down to her collar and darkening the fabric.

“I get to say who goes where on my ship.” It was a petty-as-shit argument, but I was panicked. Cass could die. The ship could burn her alive or suck her inside the resin.

I’d been foolish to set so little value on her life. But my ship... the Hollow Chorus wept every night, and it broke my damn heart to know she hurt so badly, and nothing I did settled her.

“You want to pick me up and carry me out of here? You can try, and then we’ll both die. You because I’ll kill you for not letting me do my job. Quit the alpha sass and put those incredible muscles to good use. If she keeps shaking, I’ll lose this hand before I can fix the tear. And unlike a lizard, I can’t grow back my hand.”

I stayed where I was and held the column where Cass needed it. Some tiny part of me, smarter than the rest, understood I wouldn’t win this fight, and even if I did and dragged her out of here, I’d lose something worth winning.

I inched closer, my shadow spreading over hers against the resin. “Are you sure you know how to handle this? Resin doesn’t function like Earth metals.”

“We know how to fix damn alien tech!” Sweat slid into Cass’s eyes, and she flicked her head back, the droplets landing on me.

She leaned into the column, her shoulder braced against my chest while she worked her hand free.

I put my palm against the column above hers. “Follow the grain. That’s where the pieces grow together. They find a piece that matches and mold against each other.”

“Yep. Got it. Like spreading cookies on a baking tray.” She adjusted her angle to match what I’d shown her, wriggled her wrist, twisted her tool, flipping and shifting the angle as she freed her fingers, and her sticky hand landed over mine. “Press down. Your ship needs to mold the repair herself, or she’ll reject it, and we’ll get another cascade of ship spunk on our heads.”

I pressed my lips together. “No one needs that.”

“I’ve had worse ejaculations hit me. An eyeball hit is the worst. That stuff stings. Press, hold, no sudden movements.”

We stood together, her hand over mine as the vein sealed shut, her citrus shampoo and sweat flooding my nose. The room went quiet enough that our breathing was the loudest thing in it. Resin dust hung in the light between us, a gold shimmer of ship particulate, settling slowly on our hair and clothing.

Cass turned, her eyes dropping to my mouth for as long as mine dropped to hers, then she corrected.

“You should have told us what was going on in this fucking room.” Her voice had lost its edge, her chest heaving as she got her breathing under control. “Why didn’t you show us this first? This could be your ground zero problem, and you kept it from us.”

“Because you’d have looked at me the way you’re looking at me right now. I did nothing wrong to this ship, yet it’s acting as if I beat her into submission.”

“She’s screaming! And she’s pissed. You must have fucked with something you shouldn’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t be the first jackass who tried to break a sentient ship so it did your bidding. And sure, that works for a while, but just like a broken horse or any animal that’s scared into action, fear and distrust linger. One day, they fight back, and you get kicked in the head or the balls. And you know what I say to that?”

“I’m imagining you’d laugh and raise a toast.”

Surprise lit her gaze for a second. “Damn right I would. You teach with kindness, praise, and repetition. Now answer me straight, Rennick, and I’ve seen you lie, so I know how terrible you are at it. Did you hurt your ship?”

I stepped into Cass’s space, glowering down at her. “I didn’t hurt her. I may have raised my voice after she slammed a door into my head for the tenth time, but I want her well. And happy. That’s why I came to you. Cass, I need you to fix this. I need your help.”

She tipped her chin up, and I bent down without realizing I’d closed the gap. There was maybe an inch of air left between her mouth and mine. “Huh. Is that so?”

The column lit up, and a voice came with it. The same voice from the mess hall wall. It cut off mid-word, swallowed by static.

Cass went rigid, and she tilted her head, a strand of her hair tickling my skin. “That’s twice now your spooky ship has tried to talk.”

I kept looking at her mouth. “Everyone said you’re the best at solving the unsolvable. Solve this mystery for me. I can’t lose her.”

“All your funds are in her, are they?” She shot me a glare, although she was still searching the room. “Worried you’ll lose everything you put into her? What’s the plan? Fix her up as best you can and then sell her to the next idiot?”

My eyes narrowed. “That’s not the plan. That was never the plan.”

“Sure. You spent out on a princess expecting her to be grateful, and she’s not bending over and letting you have any of her holes. Smart lady.” Cass half-smiled, and her tongue traced across her bottom lip, capturing my attention again.