Chapter 2 #5
The first of Baelon’s enforcers appeared, towering crystalline figures of brown agate with chiseled edges and an aura of palpable menace. They charged without hesitation, and the crystals on their bodies glinted like blades.
He met their attack head-on. His blade clashed against an Elite’s arm with a resounding crack. Sparks flew as he parried a second strike from another, his movements fluid and precise.
“Laytrii, Kyrix, get ready,” Vaeloryx commanded, his voice cold and steady.
Laytrii unleashed a burst of energy into the console, making her bright-green body flare. “Keep them off us, Adamou!” she called.
“I’m trying!” Azazel growled as he drove his blade into an enforcer’s chest.
The crystalline body shattered, and shards scattered across the floor.
He stiffened, his breaths coming out labored. Good to know the Krystalii were susceptible to physical attacks. But it was puzzling why they didn’t just use their psychic powers to hold him back.
No time to ponder. Another guard attacked, replacing his downed comrade.
Outside the room, an echoing clatter of glass footsteps sounded, telling him more Elites were on their way.
“Core override complete,” Vaeloryx announced in a calm tone. “The system will collapse. Now is your chance to grab the female. Go!” His last word came out in a growl when two Elites converged on him.
Laytrii battled next to him, keeping the descending forces busy.
Azazel nodded, stepping back as the corridor trembled.
The walls flickered, their mirrored glow dimmed.
“This way!” Kyrix barked, motioning for him and JR14 to follow.
Alarms blared, and their piercing wail echoed through the unstable halls.
Azazel’s heart pounded as they entered Baelon’s private chamber next to the Nexus Core.
A massive doorway loomed ahead. Intricate patterns around it pulsated with a faint light.
“She’s in there,” Kyrix slapped his hand next to the door.
“Retrieve her and then go through the only open hallway inside—it leads to his private ship dock. Your construct should be able to guide you to one you can operate.” The opal Krystalii glanced over his shoulder, his breaths coming out short before turning back to him.
“I’m afraid you’re on your own from here.
I’ve got to go back and help the others divert the guards headed this way.
If you can’t get a ship, head back to the rendezvous point.
” The door rippled and parted, revealing an inner sanctum.
“Understood.” Azazel slipped his katana back into its sheath. “JR14 has the coordinates of the docked ships. If things don’t turn out like we planned, we’ll meet you there as soon as it’s safe to do so.”
Kyrix nodded, his iridescent features unreadable before he turned and ran back the way they’d come without another word.
Walking through the open doorway, Azazel was met with stifling air.
Heavy with the scent of minerals mixed with an underlying metallic layer.
The room was lavish in its starkness, its walls adorned with jagged crystal formations that glowed with a faint violet light.
At one corner, a figure sat against the crystalline wall—a woman.
He froze. Her very essence hit him like a blow.
Even in this alien environment, she appeared otherworldly.
Her dark hair framed her delicate face, her skin luminous under the faint light.
Thank the goddess, she appeared unharmed.
His breath caught. The more he studied her, the stronger something deep inside him shifted.
He swallowed as he scanned her strong-yet-soft features.
This was a woman with a magnetic presence.
Toni.
“Verified: organic female human,” JR14’s voice broke through his thoughts, his words a distant whir. “Vital signs stable.”
Azazel didn’t waste any time racing toward her.
Her eyes widened, and a faint moan escaped her lips. And in that brief moment, their gazes met. Those eyes, a deep and startling shade of cornflower blue, locked onto his.
The world paused.
Inexplicable warmth flooded his chest, a sensation he’d never experienced before.
“Who…” She stared at him, her voice trembling but steady. “Who are you?”
“Trust me,” Azazel said, his voice gentler than he expected. “I’m your way out.”
The sound of distant footsteps shattered the moment.
Vaeloryx’s voice echoed through the Sub-Node dangling from the sash wrapped around his waist. “Azazel, the enforcers are closing in. You must leave now.”
Azazel didn’t hesitate. He scooped Toni into his arms, making her squeal as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her close, her slight weight easy to handle as he headed toward the open door. “JR14, prepare for extraction.”
“Affirmative,” the bot replied, and his wings buzzed in a steady rhythm.
Azazel sprinted through an open doorway and headed left.
If he wasn’t mistaken, it was where Kyrix had told him to go.
At least he hoped so. He struggled to pay attention to where he was going.
It was hard to shake the image of Toni’s mesmerizing eyes—the way they pierced through him—that ignited something deep and primal inside him.
So much so that his inner beast twitched with interest.
Son-of-a-lilit! Last thing he needed was this added distraction. He didn’t have time to moon over a woman he hadn’t even introduced himself to yet. Ignoring his instinctual reaction to her, he redoubled his efforts and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
The ship trembled around them, the room’s defenses faltering under the strain of the destabilized core.
Azazel tightened his grip on Toni and raced down the chamber. The sound of chaos and conflict grew louder around them with each step.
When Lord Ronald-McDictator vanished, the only thing for Toni to do was finish the liquid stuff he had given her. After she swallowed the last sip, her heavy eyes demanded some downtime. And before she knew it, she was out like a light.
She jolted awake as the platform beneath her shuddered.
Her head pounded, and she touched the side of her face and tried to wade through the thick fog churning inside her brain.
Glancing around through blurry eyes, she noticed the light had changed to a violet color that bathed the crystalline room.
It pulsed erratically, throwing distorted shadows across the walls.
Son of a bitch! The damn place better stop wavering around or she’d spew.
With a moan, she covered her stomach with her palm and sat up, leaning against the mirrored wall. Something caught her attention, making her look around. What was that? Her pulse quickened.
A loud crack split the air, and the heavy chamber doors slid open.
Toni froze. Her breath hitched as a figure rushed through the threshold, his silhouette sharp against the flickering light.
Holy God! No way was that Baelon.
With an unbelieving stare, she took in the man standing a few feet away.
He was all hard lines and silent intensity.
A man who didn’t need to speak to make the room bend around his will.
She watched him the way prey watches a predator—fascinated and wary, but unable to look away.
His long dark hair, pulled back in a thick braid, leaving a strong scruffy jawline clear, high cheekbones, and mahogany-brown eyes that stared at her with timeless purpose.
His face could have been chiseled by a master sculptor—sharp angles, powerful lines, and a quiet intensity that dared her to look away.
The slight edges of a scar above his left brow only enhanced the rugged potency of his features.
She sucked in a breath and scanned what he wore. A loose, tunic-style shirt in a neutral color covered flowing trousers held together by a wide, black sash wrapped around his trim waist. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, snuggled in that sash was an honest-to-god katana.
For a split second, Toni’s breath caught. She couldn’t have envisioned a more-compelling heroic figure in one of her movies if she tried. This man was impossibly striking, a vision of something fierce and noble that didn’t belong in the nightmarish reality she found herself stuck in.
Suspicion reared its ugly head. Toni’s heart thrummed harder.
Baelon was a master manipulator. This man—this apparition of a “rescuer”—could be another one of his cruel games.
How else could she explain it? As if her idea of a perfect man just happened to stride through the door to rescue her.
The guy radiated undeniable confidence. A living embodiment of every fantasy her personal leading man would be.
Her throat tightened as she sat ramrod straight, fighting to stay calm.
“Who…” She swallowed to keep the trembling out of her tone. “Who are you?”
“Trust me.” He said in a gentle tone. “I’m your way out.”
Yeah, right. Like she was stupid enough to buy that shit show.
Clattering footsteps from outside the room echoed.
“Azazel, the enforcers are closing in. You must leave now.”
Was that strange voice coming from some kind of… beeper attached to the sash on his trim waist? And… Azazel? What kind of name was that?
Next thing she knew, his brawny arms swept her up and held her close. With a sharp shriek, she wrapped her arms around his firm neck and hung on as he raced out of the room the same way he came in.
“JR14, prepare for extraction.”
“Affirmative,” came an answer from a red-gold spider buzzing next to her. A flying spider? No, wait. It looked metallic. And it talked. Must be some kind of alien robot.
The ship trembled, causing the man to stumble.
She gasped and hung on tighter. Fortunately, he never faltered. Shouts and the sounds of pursuit echoed from behind them, making it clear they were being chased. It stood to reason it had to be Baelon’s flunkies.
And on cue, a sharp, blaring alarm echoed down the corridor, growing louder.
The man she assumed was Azazel muttered a curse under his breath in a strange language.