Chapter 22
Flack
I woke with a pounding headache, and after a brief moment of disorientation, wondered if I’d somehow traveled back in time.
My side ached fiercely, my head felt concussed again, and I was trapped in the same cell in the brig on the Vidu as before.
Not good. The upside was that it appeared this time I wasn’t stabbed, just bruised.
Even bigger plus: the Verana Diamond was still burning a hole in the hidden pocket I’d stowed it in.
Impressive, because a fist-sized bump did leave a bit of a visible mark, even in my high-tech armored pants.
As my vision was still struggling to clear, I focused on the senses that did work.
My ears twitched as I tried to pick up sounds, and my nose flared as I inhaled.
There was no scent of Irena in here, just a very faint, lingering hint that must have been from before.
Xathena’s presence was stronger, as was that of several more crew members.
One such male was currently located inside the door to the brig.
He wasn’t aware of my waking yet and sat lazily on a crate, his attention focused on a game he played on his comm device.
Definitely not the kind of behavior a guard should be displaying, but discipline had always been lacking on this ship.
Under Xathena’s control, I suspected it would rapidly slip even further.
Not even Aramon, whose attention span was often sorely lacking, would let himself get distracted in such a manner.
I almost scoffed out loud, and the words were on the tip of my tongue to berate the idiot for not doing a good job.
Too bad he wasn’t required to do much more than sit there.
I was still weak, struggling for breath through cracked ribs.
Shifting was beyond my reach for many reasons, though the biggest one had to be the drug they’d pumped into my system.
Any grand escape plans were currently on hold, which left me anxious, dread coiling through my stomach.
Not for me, but for my mate. Where was she? Did Xathena still have her?
The last thing I remembered was being down on the planet and seeing a pirate with his grubby hands on my mate.
Her fear-filled face as she was dragged toward Xathena was forever etched in my brain.
I knew she was alive because Xathena had made it clear she knew controlling Irena was the way to control me.
Alive did not mean unharmed, and it was far too easy for my mind to supply all kinds of images of what they might have done to her. I had to get out of these bonds, now!
My growing agitation finally drew my guard’s eyes to me.
I silenced the rising growl and pushed down the mounting fury that sent adrenaline coursing through my system.
He was not the one who had dragged my Irena from the bushes, but right now, he might as well have been.
I was going to draw him closer, have him open my cell door, and then I’d kill the bastard.
Simple as that. I did not kid myself into thinking he had the keys to my shackles, but it would give me something to do while I plotted.
Xathena had kept me alive for a reason, and that meant she was keeping Irena alive.
I had to cling to that or I’d go mad. It was already nearly impossible to keep the rage under control, my body trembling with tension.
The approaching male squinted at me, full of suspicion, sensing something very off but not having enough sense to let that halt his approach.
“What must a guy do around here to get a decent meal?” I drawled, trying to distract him.
He blinked, his four arms twitching at his sides and white blanching the mood spots across the bridge of his nose.
Scared. Nervous. Pretorians were usually easy to read, and this guy was no different.
I focused on that, rather than on the desire to rip him to shreds simply because he stood in my way.
“It’s not dinner time yet,” he said, baffled.
So, not the brightest of Xathena’s dwindling crew.
Had he not run into me, he wouldn’t have lasted long on this ship; that was certain.
When he unlocked my cell with his biosignature and stepped inside, I knew I was dealing with a full-fledged idiot.
Xathena would have warned them I couldn’t be trusted, and Dimon had no doubt done the same, so why was he getting into my cell?
I hadn’t even asked him to yet. No wonder Dimon had insisted on not allowing any guards inside the brig so far.
Why he’d entered became clear when I wriggled on the seat and he blithely continued inside; his only sensible act was shutting the cell door behind him.
“I’m hungry now. Aren’t you hungry? You look like a guy who could use a juicy Fantreal steak right about now…
” I said, testing. He licked his lips, thinking about it, and still kept approaching.
Holding his laser rifle to his chest, he shifted it to poke the barrel against my hip.
“You’re not so tough now that your mate is locked in Xathena’s quarters, are you?
” he said. The white was vanishing from his mood spots, making way for yellow excitement and a hint of pink that bordered on something I really didn’t want to think about.
“I am hungry, and I’m going to eat in a minute, but you’re not.
You’re not getting anything, I reckon.” He grinned, showing off a smile that had more teeth missing than remaining.
Ignoring all signs of danger, he stepped even closer.
And they were there; any of my brothers on the Varakartoom would have seen the risk.
I’d grown even tenser, my breathing growing shallow, and my eyes had locked onto him like a predator locked onto its prey.
He should have seen it coming, and it was rather dissatisfying how quickly the scuffle went down.
He was not even a remotely challenging target to take some of my rage out on.
Having stepped into range, I curled back on the narrow cot, and caught his neck between my legs.
He had four arms to defend himself with, and a laser rifle, but he did not get the chance.
With a wrench of my thighs, I snapped his neck, and he crashed to the ground at my feet with a thud.
Chest heaving, I let out the growl that I’d been holding back, and it rattled the brig.
Damn it, now I was still stuck, and the situation did not improve when your company was now a corpse.
I kicked the guy until he rolled over, my eyes scanning his body to search for anything I could use.
A laser pistol, a knife, but no handy key.
At least I’d taken care of yet another of these bastards; one more male who could not harm my Irena.
I caught her scent a moment later, sweet and fearless.
My heart leaped in my chest, a feeling I could not describe any other way.
I was so relieved it trembled through my body, the chains rattling above my head.
Irena, but no other scent accompanied her.
She was alone, and she smelled unharmed.
How that was possible, I did not know, but there she was, walking casually into the brig.
Not even through the hidden panel, but bold as brass.
I hissed at her, “Are you crazy? There could have been a guard there!” If she’d walked in minutes earlier, she would have been intercepted by the dumb Pretorian.
She was damn lucky I’d managed to take care of him.
Her pretty brown eyes blinked at me as if surprised, but she kept walking.
My heart couldn’t take this; I’d never cared so much about the well-being of another as I did about hers.
“Hello, Irena, I’m so glad to see you! Are you okay?” she said in a cheerful sing-song voice. Her grin was adorably confident, her eyes sparkling. It was so good to see her like that. I responded by rote, repeating what she’d just said in a voice still hoarse with tension.
She halted outside my cell, her eyes finally dropping from my face to the collapsed body at my feet.
“I see you’ve been busy,” she murmured. Once again, the pirates showed a massive disregard for Irena’s knowledge of the ship.
They had still not withdrawn her access to my cell, and the door opened to the touch of her hand.
She stepped over the sprawled Pretorian, her feet once again bare and her body only encased in the same worn white dress she’d been wearing every day.
“Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?” I drawled.
“How did you escape?” I was so certain she’d been doomed, trapped by Xathena and possibly being tortured as payback for almost getting the best of the Xurtal woman.
Yet here she was, clearly unharmed and in the sunniest mood I’d ever seen her in.
It was wreaking havoc with my emotions, but I’d settle once I had her in my lap, right where she belonged.
“Come here, beautiful.” I wriggled my legs. “Sit with me.”
She pressed one fist to her hip, cocking it at a jaunty angle.
Then she raised her other hand in front of my face and let something dangle from her fingers.
“Wouldn’t you rather have me unlock those shackles?
” They were keys, the same scratched-up, old-fashioned keys that Dimon had used to undo the chains before.
My eyes tracked their swinging movement, fascinated.
“Ah, if you insist,” I said. The teasing mood dropped when she rushed over and began hurriedly undoing my chains.
Her body was so close, right between my thighs where I’d made space for her like she belonged.
There was the faintest hint of old terror still clinging to the dried sweat at the crook of her neck, wafting to me as her hair swung.