Chapter 7 #2
“I couldn’t afford the cloned organs she needs—” His voice hitched. He raised the injector. “I’m so sorry.” A ragged whisper.
She lifted her chin and stared out the window. She was a survivor. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t accept this lying down.
Suddenly, an alarm blared through the ship. The deputy raced to the comms panel and slapped a hand against it. “What’s happening?”
“The fucking marshal’s issued a no take-off order.” Timothy Li’s voice thundered through the comm. “We need to go. Now! Inject her and get your ass up to the cockpit to help.”
Relda scanned the spaceport, then gasped. She saw a crowd moving through the starships, headed by a small group in dark uniforms. One dark-haired man in front stood taller than the crowd.
Her heart spasmed. He was coming.
Westin stepped in front of her.
“Please, don’t do this,” she said. “We’ll help your girl, but don’t do this.”
He sighed. “It’s too late.”
There was a faint roar, and she heard the ship’s engines flare to life. Oh, no.
She tried to tap her abilities again. There. Just a small flare. The poison had worked out of her system just enough. “I’m sorry, too.” She pulled as much energy to her as she could and tossed it at the man.
He flew backward, light flaring around him. He hit the wall, his head making a sickening crack against the metal. He slumped to the floor.
She looked up at her chains. She stared hard and watched as the silver links turned faint yellow then flared to molten orange. The chains broke.
She fell forward onto her hands and knees, and barely stopped her face hitting the smooth floor. She felt the throb of the engines through the metal beneath her. Not long to takeoff.
Standing, she scanned the room. She needed some clothes, she needed the Trojan Moon, and then she was getting off this ship. She found the smooth panel of a storage cabinet. Inside were some silver jumpsuits.
She might want Hunt’s strong arms wrapped around her, but—she bit her lip—she knew she couldn’t keep him. She’d made a mistake here, letting people close. She’d put them all in danger and she didn’t want them hurt because of her.
Suddenly, the ship lifted off the ground.
No!
Hunt ran toward the sleek, silver cruisership. He could see its engines were already running and it was seconds away from takeoff.
He was still thirty meters away when it rose into the air.
“No!” he roared.
He lunged forward, hot steam bathing his face. Hasan gripped his arm and pulled him back.
Hunt’s heart was a cold, hard rock in his chest. He couldn’t lose her.
Suddenly, the ship—only ten meters off the ground—lurched sideways.
His lungs constricted and the crowd—mostly Souk market stall owners who’d come when they’d heard Relda was in trouble—gasped.
He got a quick glimpse of the starboard engine. It was overheating.
The ship slammed into the ground, taking out a nearby freighter with a crunch of metal before coming to rest tilted sideways like a spaceport drunk after a binge.
Hunt broke free of his deputy. As he neared the ship, he saw a cargo door open. A slim figure in silver leaped out.
His steps slowed. The woman striding toward him wore a silver jumpsuit with bright blue accents. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, which threw her face into stark relief—high cheekbones, strong jawline, and those green eyes, now glimmering with red flames.
There was no sign of the flirtatious fortune teller or even the sensuous woman he’d made love to.
This woman was the powerful Vega-Lyran.
As she neared, the starships on either side of her shifted along the ground, moving out of her way. A wave of power emanated off her, making his skin prickle.
The crowd behind him went deathly silent.
“Marshal, a Timothy Li is on the ship. You’ll want to arrest him, Deputy Westin, and the rest of Li’s men.” Her voice was toneless, her face cool and composed.
She might be some mythic psionic race, but she was still Relda. His Relda.
Hunt grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “I’m so glad you’re okay. When I saw the apartment…” His throat closed up.
Her body softened for a second, leaning into his. “I’m fine. Barely a scratch.”
He breathed deep and under the crisp smell of the jumpsuit, he smelled her. That addictive spice.
Then she pulled back. The flames in her eyes had dimmed. “Hunt—”
There was the sound of rockets firing. They both turned, and saw a small, one-man, escape ship launch from a hatch on the crashed cruiser.
“Damn it.” Relda swore. “Timothy Li.”
“I’ll put out his description on the Patrol watchlists. We’ll find him.”
Relda shook her head. “He has the Trojan Moon.” She glanced at Hunt with her otherworldly eyes. “I can’t let him get away with it and…he knows what I am.”
She threw one glance at the crowd. At the people she’d called hers for four years, and even through the flickering red, he saw the flash of agony.
She stepped away and raised her hands in the air.
The escape ship was rocketing straight upward, a vapor trail behind it.
Her hands began to glow. A bright, eye-searing gold.
The escape ship faltered midair. It stopping rising, and started to fall back toward the ground. It began a sickening spiral.
The murmurs in the crowd were a mix of horror, shock, and excitement.
Hunt knew Relda heard them because he saw her shoulders hunch a little. But she kept her focus on the ship.
Timothy Li’s ship hurtled back toward them. Hunt heard his deputies directing the crowd to move back, but Hunt just watched Relda.
She was magnificent. Was there anything more attractive than a strong, powerful woman?
Suddenly, the escape ship slowed. Relda moved her hands, like a beautiful dance, and the ship stopped. She moved her arms toward an open area free of ships not far away.
And set the ship down.
Then she was striding over to it, and Hunt was one step behind her.
The cockpit opened and a slender, black-haired man crawled out, collapsing on the ground. He was sobbing.
Relda bent and snatched the Trojan Moon from around his neck.
Then she leaned closer and whispered to Timothy Li.
“Never mess with a Vega-Lyran. I could kill you in a blink.” She clenched her hand into a fist, and Timothy Li flinched.
“You mention me to anyone, come after me or mine again, I will snuff you out.”
Li’s terrified eyes turned to Hunt, and seeing the uniform, he started blathering. “She tried to kill me! Arrest her!”
Hunt’s jaw cracked under the tension tearing through him.
He kept his voice low. “You almost killed my woman. You blew up my apartment. You carried out crimes in my city. You. Almost. Killed. My. Woman.” Even Hunt heard the towering rage in his voice.
“You’re lucky I don’t just let her kill you right now. ”
Behind him, Hunt heard his deputies running up. “Marshal!”
“Deputy Hasan, arrest this man. I want him locked in a cell.” Then Hunt turned to Relda.
She was watching the crowd. He moved closer. He knew what she saw. Confusion, awe, and fear.
“Relda, give them some time—”
“I have to go.”
His gut clenched. She wasn’t talking about going back to her house. She was talking about leaving. Leaving Souk. Leaving him. “No.”
“Not your decision, Marshal Calder.” She took one step, and he saw her wobble.
He’d been expecting it, and when she collapsed, he scooped her into his arms.
He didn’t spare the crowd another glance, just said to Hasan, “Contact me if you need me.”