Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Fear had spread through Samantha like frost across a windowpane, chilling her limbs and forming a sinking weight in her stomach. She’d known she never stood a chance against Vaund, even before seeing him and Arcanthus fight; it was a small miracle that she’d done any damage at all in her desperate attack.
But Arcanthus was struggling. She knew he was pushing himself to his limits, beyond his limits, and what if that wasn’t enough? What if she lost him?
She clenched her jaw and curled her hands into trembling fists. There had to be something she could do. Some way she could help.
She refused to let fear prevent her from protecting her man, her mate, her everything. Even if she wasn’t nearly as skilled or capable as Arcanthus, she would fight just as hard as him to protect the people she cared about.
Samantha forced her body forward, dropping onto hands and knees to pick up Arcanthus’s discarded blaster. She pushed herself to her feet and adjusted her grip on the weapon, accounting for her clammy palms. She aimed the barrel toward Vaund—he and Arcanthus were locked up like two goats butting heads—and advanced.
There was no point in trying to shoot from anywhere but point-blank range; the chance of hitting Arcanthus was too great, and her shots wouldn’t do any harm to Vaund. He’d taken at least three direct blasts from Drakkal without slowing, and she’d heard the dull, metal-on-metal clangs when Arcanthus’s fists and feet connected with his body. He had armor beneath his skin.
To her knowledge, Vaund only had one exploitable weakness—but she had to get close to make sure it worked.
Damned close.
The first time she’d attacked Vaund from behind, he’d reacted as though he’d seen her coming; she had to assume he could and act accordingly.
She crossed the space that separated her from the males quickly but cautiously, giving Vaund a wide berth as she circled around to his back. Her eyes repeatedly flicked to his hands as she moved; though Arcanthus had managed to keep Vaund’s palms pointed up, all it would take was a miniscule gain by Vaund to angle those arm-canons lower. She had no chance of evading such a blast.
Once she was facing Vaund’s back, she pressed straight ahead. Her thundering heart and ragged breaths dominated her hearing. The paces between Samantha and her target diminished, and thoughts swirled in her head—deriding her foolishness, questioning her apparent death wish, telling her she would fail now just like she always had. James’s voice bubbled up from her memory to say she was worthless and weak, that she needed him, but she shoved it aside and clenched her jaw.
I never needed you. I need Arcanthus—and he needs me , too .
I can do this .
Vaund wrenched his head back from Arcanthus’s as Samantha neared. Her chest constricted and her stomach knotted for an instant; in that instant, Vaund growled and twisted his body, sending a kick backward—directly at her.
This time, she’d been expecting it—had been counting on it. She dodged to the side; Vaund’s leg brushed over the fabric of her shirt as it cut through the air in front of her, narrowly missing her abdomen. The way he’d moved had angled the side of his helmet toward her. Before she could think, she slid her leading foot forward, closing the last bit of distance between her and her foe, and pressed the barrel of her blaster against the valve opening on his helmet.
Samantha pulled the trigger twice.
Fiery sparks flared from the other connections on Vaund’s helmet. The sound he released was unlike anything Samantha had ever heard, unlike anything she could’ve imagined, even in her wildest nightmares. It was at once bestial and robotic, guttural and staticky, agonized and furious; she couldn’t know if he was even making the sound himself or if it was a malfunction caused by the internal damage to his mask.
Arcanthus swung Vaund around by his wrists and heaved him toward the blast door. Before Samantha could move, he spun to face her again and leapt at her. His body collided with her heavily, knocking the blaster from her hand. He wrapped his arms around her as they fell; they landed hard, but his arms absorbed most of the impact and prevented his full weight from coming down atop her. Arc shielded her with his body.
She pressed her hands to his chest; it expanded and contracted with his quick, ragged breaths, and the rapid pounding of his heart matched the pace of hers.
The terrifying sound from Vaund continued, gradually diminishing into a static hiss that ultimately ended with a drawn out, gurgling release of air. Seconds passed; anticipation kept Sam’s muscles tense, but whatever she was waiting for didn’t come.
Sam and Arc lifted their heads and turned to look toward Vaund. He lay unmoving, pale gray smoke curling up from his helmet.
“Is he dead?” Samantha asked.
“I would hope so,” Arcanthus replied. He turned his face toward hers. “Are you all right?”
Samantha reached up, grabbed his jaw, and pressed her mouth against his. She kissed him hard, kissed him with the despair she’d felt at the possibility of losing him, with the relief she felt for having him safe in her arms, with all the love brimming inside of her. She slid her hands up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself tighter against him. He returned the kiss with the same raw, unguarded emotions that flowed through her, holding her like he’d never let go again.
Arcanthus groaned when they finally broke the kiss, slipping his tongue out to lick his lips. “There’s a little voice in the back of my mind that says it’s an inappropriate time to want to make love to you, Samantha, but I am unreasonably aroused right now.”
Laughter burst out of Samantha; it hurt her sore throat, but she didn’t care. She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her thigh, and she’d have been lying if she said she wasn’t feeling a spark of desire herself, but…
Sam’s eyes widened. “Drakkal!”
Arcanthus’s brows rose in alarm. He slipped his arms out from beneath her, pushed himself to his feet, and took her hand to help her stand. “Go to him. I’ll be right there.”
Samantha rushed back to Drakkal’s side. He lay exactly where she’d left him, blood matting his mane. She pressed her hand to his neck, searching for a pulse through his thick fur, and gasped when he stirred. She settled her palm on his chest and leaned toward him. “Drakkal?”
Arcanthus grunted behind her. Samantha glanced over her shoulder to see him standing over Vaund with the blue energy sword in his right hand. He leaned down, grabbed something with his free hand—his body was blocking her view of it—and swung the blade. Straightening, he tossed the object aside—Vaund’s armored head, now cleanly detached from his body.
Movement from Drakkal called Sam’s attention back to him. He lifted his head off the floor slightly, eyelids fluttering open, before dropping it again. “ Vrek’osh ,” he grumbled, “my skull feels like a tralix stepped on it.”
Relief flooded Samantha. “You got hit pretty hard. You might have a concussion.”
Drakkal’s expression hardened. “Can’t feel my arm. How bad did he get me?”
“The good news is that your arm looks fine,” Arcanthus said from behind Samantha. “It just happens to be separated from your body.”
Samantha turned her head to look at Arcanthus with disbelieving eyes. “Arc!”
The azhera’s nostrils flared with a heavy exhalation, and he opened his eyes again; they were clearer, this time, more alert and determined. “Still three limbs ahead of you, sedhi.”
Arcanthus moved to Drakkal’s side and crouched, slipping a hand beneath the azhera’s uninjured arm. “Let’s get you on your feet, old friend. We need to leave before any more guests show up.”
Samantha stood up. “The others?”
“They made it into the escape tunnel,” Arcanthus said as he helped Drakkal up, taking the azhera’s weight on his shoulder. “Anyone who didn’t is probably already dead.”
Her heart seized at the thought of losing any of her new friends—her new family. She’d only just found the place she belonged, and they’d taken her into their fold so readily, had treated her as one of their own from the start. She couldn’t bear to lose any of them.
Arcanthus used the tip of his tail to activate his holocom and opened the workshop blast door fully, revealing the destruction within. The couches were charred, the floor scorched with blast marks, and bodies—or at least pieces of bodies—were scattered everywhere, blasted into ash. The air was thick with the stench of burned flesh.
Sam walked beside Arc as he and Drakkal entered the workshop. Neither of the males seemed affected by the carnage around them. She tried to emulate their indifference, telling herself that those weren’t corpses, that the blackened piles of ash hadn’t been people a few minutes ago. Her stomach churned and twisted, and she pressed her lips together, clutching Arcanthus. He slid his tail around her waist, offering wordless comfort.
They mounted the steps to the platform. His desk was in pieces, and much of the equipment against the surrounding walls was damaged or destroyed, though several of the screens were still operational. One of the entrances had been blasted open, and the door lay in several large, deformed chunks nearby.
Arc input a command on one of the surviving holo screens; a hatch slid open at the center of the platform, revealing to a set of steep, illuminated steps. The opening was too narrow for them to descend side-by-side. Arcanthus directed Samantha down first.
Her gaze lingered on Arcanthus and Drakkal before she took in a deep breath, turned, and descended into the narrow tunnel .
She was greeted by several blasters pointed at her. Her eyes widened and her heart stopped.
“Samantha,” Sekk’thi gasped. Razi, Kiloq, Koroq, Thargen, and Urgand stood near her, blocking the tunnel with their bodies. Several other people Samantha didn’t know were behind them; they must’ve been more members of the security team.
They all lowered their weapons, looks of relief softening their expressions.
Sekk’thi shoved her way forward and pulled Samantha into a tight, one-armed embrace. “You tough, stupid little terran. I am glad you are safe.”
Samantha pulled away from Sekk’thi and glanced at the ilthurii’s right arm, which was tucked tight against her side. “You’re hurt!”
“I will be fine, Samantha. I have had worse.”
“You were supposed to be with us, terran,” Kiloq said, scowling.
“I had to help Drakkal,” Sam replied.
“Is he…”
“I’m not dead,” Drakkal growled from behind Samantha.
She looked back to see him moving down the stairs, supporting himself with his uninjured arm against the wall. Arc was just in front of him, keeping close. As soon as Drakkal was low enough, Arcanthus closed the hatch overhead.
“You lost an arm,” Koroq said.
“ Kraasz ka’val, do you think I didn’t notice that?” Drakkal replied through his bared teeth.
“To be fair, you didn’t,” Arcanthus said. “But we can talk about all that later. We need to move. We’ll get a clean-up crew in as soon as possible once we’re out.”
The tunnel shook with an explosion from overhead, the force of which resonated through the walls and floor.
“What’s happening now?” Kiloq asked.
“Just destroying some evidence,” Arcanthus replied. “Now, if you’d all be so kind as to move , it would be greatly appreciated.”
“This was a bucketload of skrudge piss,” Thargen grumbled. “Why’d you make me wait in a damned tunnel when I could’ve been out there fighting?”
“If you want a fight, I will gladly beat you into unconsciousness,” Arcanthus replied, “ after we get out of this place. I thought I was keeping the best of the best on my security team. What the hell am I paying you for if you can’t follow a simple order? Go!”
The group moved forward, with Thargen muttering curses to himself as he turned to follow.
Samantha lagged to step closer to Arcanthus. “Where are we going to go?”
He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “I have a safehouse on standby. It might be a bit dusty, as I’ve never used it, but it’s something. From there”—his mouth tilted up at one corner into a roguish grin—“we’ll have to find a new home together.”
She leaned her face into his touch and smiled.
Together.