Page 59 of Phoenix's Last Heist
“I don’t understand,” I say quietly.
“I know,” he says on a sigh. “Things are complicated. But we need to talk, Lyra.Reallytalk—without assuming what the other person is going to say. I have things I need to tell you—not just about us. I want us to figure some of this out together, but you have to give me some credit. You owe me some honesty.”
The part of my hurt, insulted heart wants to rage at him and fling my remaining noodles at him, but the other part of me longs for an open, unguarded conversation with the man I’m reluctantly falling in love with.Can I have an unguarded conversation if I still worry about him turning me over to the Feds?For the first time since we set out on this fucked up adventure, that worry feels…less, somehow. That thought shocks me enough to give him the benefit of the doubt this time.
Looking up, I realize we’ve caused a bit of a scene in the middle of the mess hall. Five Drellers and a Printharian I’ve never met are staring at us with undisguised interest.
Hunger temporarily sated, I nod at Orion.
“You’re right,” I say. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk privately.”
He offers me a small, relieved smile.
“Thank you.”
I shove a few of the sugar buns into the pockets of my jumpsuit and gesture to him to do the same. With a chuckle, he pilfers a few as well.
We leave the mess hall, much to the disappointment of our audience, and make our way down the long, sloping corridor to the cargo bay. I’ve stayed on Evie’s ship before but she’s obviously done a lot to it in the intervening years—the living quarters have been fixed up to a level of comfort I’m not used to.
At the end of the hall is a large room, spartan with disuse but clean and organized. A large bed sits in the middle of the room, storage closets to the left, a small desk to the right and a small bathroom with a shower tucked into the back corner.
“Nice, Evie,” I say, whistling appreciatively. “This must be for when she has higher ups in the company come out to survey the site.”
I fling myself onto the thick, soft mattress and moan when I sink deep into the plush comforter and pillows.
“Verynice, Evie,” I sigh. “She always knows the right places to spend her credits.”
I peel myself up off the bed and turn to see Orion watching me with heat in his gaze. That’s all it takes for me to return to a state of drugged lust at the thought of that glorious body writhing beneath mine.
“You mentioned wanting to talk?” I say, clearing my throat. If we don’t have it out now, I’m going to become far too distracted to function.
He shakes his head to clear it—obviously feeling the same chaotic appetites.
“Lyra, we need to talk about the Dark Star,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
Of all the things I thought he’d lead with,thatcertainly wasn’t on the list.
“What about it?” I ask warily.
“I need to know what you know about it. What Brill knows about it—why he’s looking for it. The Solar Mother is more than just a piece of treasure, and I think you know that, too.” He crosses the room to stand in front of me, dropping to his knees so that we’re eye level.
“Please,” he implores. “Please tell me the truth.”
The food in my belly threatens to find its way back up and out of my body. Swallowing the dry lump sticking in my throat, I think over my options. Trusting someone else with the truth—thewholetruth—feels like handing over the end of my tether. My pulse thrums in my ears. I want to look away, but there’s something about the way he’s kneeling—open, steady, sincere—that makes my chest ache.
Am I really ready to do that?
“Why?” I hedge.
“Because the legend that everyone believes about it—that it has the power to bring someone back from the dead—it’s wrong,” he says.
I still. “What? Wait—the Dark Star is real?” No way. No fucking way.
He nods slowly.
“If I tell you this, Lyra, youmustswear to me you will stop looking for it. You cannot tell anyone about this. I’m taking a huge leap of faith here, but no one has ever gotten so close before and if I can’t make you understand…we’re all in danger,” he says, distress evident in the brutal way he shoves his fingers through his hair.
“I swear,” I tell him. Even as the words leave my mouth, part of me wonders if I mean them. I’ve sworn before—to Brill, to my father’s memory, to myself—and broken every single one. But something in Orion’s eyes makes me want to try again.
