“Sorry, bud, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
What’s going on? What’s she doing?
Worry surged through him. That thud could have been any of a number of things. His chief concern among them would be a boarding tube locking on. Green flickered behind his eyelids, lighting the darkness as his implant reinitiated the heads-up display across his field of vision. He sighed in relief as it started to relay information again. He still couldn’t move, but it was a start.
I don’t believe it… She’s bouncing us off their damn shields!
Three more thuds followed in quick succession as the alarms filled the air in the cabin with collision warnings. Another thud and the scream of metal sounded as the shuttle went into a spin. He gritted his teeth as Samara swore. Come on, babe, you can do this.
We’re clear. She’s gunning the engines and heading for the asteroid belt.
He didn’t need Cael’s running commentary to feel the tension in the shuttle. The viselike grip on his body eased a fraction and allowed him to open his eyes. Instantly he rolled his gaze toward her. She was hunched over the pilot’s console, her face set in a determined grimace as she stabbed delicate fingers at the display.
“Come on, come on. Can’t this freaking thing go any faster? Cyborgs, meanest SOBs in the galaxy…but a shit ride. You guys seriously need to get this thing tricked out,” Samara informed the cabin in general. She didn’t know if they could hear her, but she needed to talk to someone.
The console in front of her was alight with so many warnings it looked like a Christmas tree. Panic hovered in the back of her mind as she tried to clear as many as she could and escape the clutches of the Fleet ships closing in around them.
Her eyes were trained on the panel in front of her like a hawk. There had to be a way out of this. All she needed was one little gap in the ships circling her…
As soon as she thought it, she saw the opening. Holding her breath, she punched the coordinates in and sent the shuttle hurtling toward it. The two Fleet ships tried to maneuver to cover the small alley of opportunity. Gritting her teeth, she tried to coax a little more out of the engines. If she could just get past them, they’d be in the asteroid belt.
The small shuttle slipped between the two bigger ships, the alarm klaxons nearly deafening her as their bulk blotted out the light of the stars around them. Praying fervently, she closed her eyes and squealed as they barreled down the narrow gap. Any moment now they were going to be crushed between the two larger ships. Fear and misery rose in her throat. She’d tried, she’d really tried, but it just wasn’t good enough. She was a nurse, not a trained commando like Lyon nor a kick-ass pilot like Archon or Cael.
The klaxons fell silent. Hardly daring to believe it, she cracked an eyelid open. A field of stars was visible through the asteroid belt in front of her.
“Woohoo!”
Relief and elation hit her like both barrels from a shotgun as the small vessel roared into the asteroid field at top speed. There was no way the bigger ships could follow them through here, and by the time they went around it, they’d be long gone.
“We did it!” she crowed, turning around to look at Lyon, only to find his eyes open and looking directly at her. He was awake. He’d seen her piloting the shuttle away from the Fleet ships. He had to believe her now. Then the Fleet ships opened fire.
Cannon fire slammed into the little shuttle, impacting the shields and sending it tumbling through the asteroid belt. They careened and crashed through the huge lumps of rock. One more volley from a cannon array would be it for them. The shuttle’s shields wouldn’t be able to take concerted fire.
Samara swore as she tried to hold on to the main console, but it was no good. She’d made sure everyone else was secure, but hadn’t clipped her own harness into place. The contents of the overhead lockers fell around them, a large box landing on Archon. His cursing over the commlink was enough to blister paint.
Another volley from the Fleet ships slammed into the back of the shuttle, catching the back end as Samara tried to get them behind the cover of an asteroid. They careened to the side and tipped, slamming into another smaller lump of rock.
The shuttle rolled, almost lazily. Samara screamed, a sound abruptly cut off as the console in front of her exploded in a shower of sparks.
No! Lyon roared as they rolled and she was thrown about like a rag doll. Fear for her safety rolled through his body in an unstoppable wave, a fear so complete it would have paralyzed him if he wasn’t already. She was unconscious, unable to protect herself as they tumbled, and she was only human. She wasn’t designed to take the sort of damage he was.
The alarms started up again. This time they weren’t anything as benign as collision warnings. Imminent shield failure. Sliding, they came to a stop against another asteroid, the interior lights flickering as the computer gave multiple system warnings. Samara hit the far wall and slid down it into a small heap across the destroyed pilot’s console.
He latched his gaze on her, and pushed against the lock on his body as though he could break through it by sheer willpower alone. He couldn’t see whether she was breathing or not and there was blood on the side of her face.
His heart stuttered. If she was dead, he’d never forgive himself. She’d offered him nothing but tenderness and comfort…and some very hot sex…yet he’d kidnapped her and accused her of betraying them. Of betraying him.
Despite that, she’d done her best to get them out of the clutches of the Fleet. At the risk of her own life. A large knot of something thickened his throat as he threw everything he had into making his systems boot up quicker.
Aieee, I’m out! Cael announced triumphantly. The shuttle flared to life. The interior lights snapped on, the alarms cut out and the dull roar of the engines filled his ears. And we are…outta here.
The view in the front screen changed. Cael whipped the small vessel around and drove them farther into the asteroid belt. Asteroids shattered around them as the Fleet vessels, unable to follow in the densely packed field, resorted to bombarding it with cannon fire. They didn’t have a hope in hell’s chance of hitting them, not with Cael at the helm. Not only was she a qualified combat pilot, but her mental net could sync directly with the shuttle, meaning woman and machine became one entity.
Get us out the other side and jumped before they can get around, Lyon ordered, breathing deeply as the lock on his body eased and all his systems came back online. He didn’t bother with the normal diagnostic checks he should run after an EMP. Instead he launched himself out of his seat, over Archon as he struggled with the webbing straps pinning him to the floor and to Samara’s side.
She was draped over the console like a broken doll, a trail of blood running down the side of her face to drip onto the shattered Plexiglas. He’d fought in wars, been at the forefront of a rebellion and faced his own death many times, but Lyon had never been as afraid as he was now, looking down at the woman he loved, afraid to touch her in case she was dead.
Indecision held him prisoner for less than a second. The fact that he loved her spurred him on. No quibbles, no soul searching about this new feeling. Just acceptance.
Steeling himself, he reached out and wrapped his large hand around her delicate wrist, using his fingertips to search for a pulse. Nothing. His heart stopped, the blood draining from his face. She couldn’t be dead, she just couldn’t. Not after all this. Stepping in, he turned her over. She went easily, like a rag doll. A growl of denial escaped his lips. Lyon pressed two fingers into her throat and willed her to live. If she didn’t, then he wasn’t going to be responsible for his actions. He’d find a way back to the Valkyrie and that bastard Marisol–Lees and teach him a lesson about using his own crew as bait.
There. He shifted his fingers as he felt a tiny movement, trying to isolate it. Relief and euphoria hit him like a shuttle at jump speed as he found a weak pulse. It was weak, but she was still alive.
“Archon, get me a med-kit, now!” he demanded, large hands moving over his little nurse, checking for injuries. She was alive and he intended to keep her that way.
“How’s she doing?”
Archon poked his head around the door to the main cabin three hours later. His dark eyes were concerned and Lyon could sense the questions just waiting to pour from the Gemini’s lips.
He reached out and smoothed Samara’s dark hair back from her face. Curled up on her side, she was sleeping. He’d dressed the wound on her scalp. It had looked worse than it was. His heart had been in his throat and his hands shaking as he’d cleaned it up, which was something he’d never encountered before.
He’d patched himself and members of his team up more times than he could remember. Hell, he and Cael had even rebuilt Archon’s shoulder once. Mind you, they’d had to get him drunk to stop him turning around and trying to help. “She’s doing well. Still needs a proper check over, but the scans are clean.”
Archon nodded, relief showing on his face. Other than yelling for a med-kit, Lyon hadn’t let anyone near the petite human. Archon had tried to help and received a growl for his troubles. As far as Lyon saw it, she was here because of him and she was his responsibility.
Still hovering by the door, Archon shuffled his feet. His signal he wanted to say something else. Lyon looked up, narrowing his gaze on the other man. At least the randy Gemini wasn’t ogling Samara’s figure anymore.
“What is it?”
Archon flushed a little, a banner of color across his cheekbones.
“We’ve been thinking…”
Uh-oh. He knew that “we”. That “we” meant that the two Geminis and Cael had been talking behind his back and that he was about to get railroaded into something. He frowned a little, realizing that although he’d been thinking of Cael and Archon together earlier, it was more of the three of them that were a unit, not just the two. Interesting, perhaps he needed to lock all of them up in that room on their own and see what happened.
“She did really well, boss. Don’t be too hard on her, ‘kay?”
Archon disappeared back through the door before he could answer. Lyon sat back in the chair next to the bed and looked at his little prize. So much courage in such a delicate little frame. He’d wondered what it was about her that had drawn him in and now he knew. For all his ingrained superiority about the cyborg versus the human race, it had been her, an unenhanced human, who had put her life on the line in a way he hadn’t expected to save them.
She was not just his equal, she was his superior. And if she’d have him after this, there was no way he was letting her go.
Chapter Nine
Samara woke slowly. She’d never been one for waking quickly, as many an abused alarm clock would attest to, but today she wallowed in the comfortable warmth and darkness before full consciousness started to intrude.
She ached. It felt like she’d been worked over with a stick or she’d gone elitist in the gym with the hardcore program. Just a little longer and she’d get up, it was too warm and comfortable here. It was only when voices intruded on her doze that her brain started to clear the fuzz of sleep out.