Taming an Angel

by Kathleen Lash

  They’d accumulated fourteen useless weapons because the men were blinded by the flashes of red after the moments of darkness.

  “Hold your eyes open, let them water and focus ahead. Don’t turn your head too fast,” she said.

  The message got passed back through whispered words and she gained speed, knowing they’d follow. She kept walking and when a patrol came near, she and the Braughmen engaged the Doxyn threat. There would be quite a body count after they departed.

  Rounding the last corner and ensuring the hall was clear, she started sprinting toward the last barrier. They’d get through the door but it’d take a number of laser blasts directed at the huge locking mechanism to make it happen. From out of nowhere, something hit her shoulder and shoved her against the wall. Her head exploded in pain.

  While sliding to the floor, she twisted and shot the hidden guard with three blasts. A veil of darkness clouded her vision. She might actually pass out. A baritone rumble relayed something urgent and questioning. Shaking her head to clear the disorientation, stars danced before her eyes.

  “Is that the way?” Tiernan asked.

  “Yes, the door to the right,” she replied, trying to bring the double images into one.

  After hoisting her up, he ran behind his men. A moment later her head cleared as Braughmen blasted the lock. When the door swung open, she arched her back and pushed against Tiernan to get onto her feet.

  “You’re hurt,” he said, tightening his arms.

  “If they head out, they’ll be killed. If my crew doesn’t see me, your men are dead.”

  He kept hold of her. “I’ll take you.”

  “They’ll…kill…you.” There wasn’t time and she bit the words out so even a child could understand. “Let me walk.”

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  He set her down but held her arm until she jerked free. With an unsteady gait, she bumped into men until she forced a path to the front of the group. She reached into her boot and pulled the slim transmitter from the inside concealed pocket.

  “Drew?” She waited. Static answered her until she said, “Damn it, Drew!”

  “Here, Storm,” her crewmember replied.

  “Secure the area beyond the door and prepare to get us aboard.”

  “How many?”

  “About twenty-two semi-naked men. You see anyone follow us out with uniforms, kill them.”

  “Understood.”

  Jessica staggered into the gated compound as brilliant light encased the area.

  Knowing Tiernan and his men followed, she waited until Drew could see she wasn’t being restrained. Once she counted to ten, she gave into the dizziness and fell to her knees. The transmitter hit the ground and skittered a few feet away. She reached for it.

  “Storm!” Drew’s voice screeched through the device.

  Tiernan picked her up before reaching to grab the transmitter off the pavement.

  “She’s wounded. Me men are clear for transport.”

  Jessica heard a laser blast and Tiernan turned away from the sound. He held her tightly as men crowded around them. Braughmen formed a barrier between the threat and their leader. “She’ll be dead right quick if you don’t transport now!”

  Jessica felt weightless for a moment before strong arms squeezed her. Her cheek rested against the solid warmth of Shane Tiernan’s naked chest. Funny, the delicate scent of floral soap seemed ridiculously dissimilar to the mass of muscle holding her.

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  Taming an Angel

  Chapter Two

  Storm slipped out of Shane’s arms and onto her feet the minute they got aboard.

  Blood dripped from the wound by her scalp and crimson streaked her colorless hair.

  Shane followed her the short distance to the command center. She didn’t waste time and spat orders to her one-gal crew.

  One gal!

  “Drew,” she said, “take us from orbit.”

  Now that’d be a problem because he felt tractor beams attach to the ship a moment prior. “You’re being held. Use your warp drive to break free.”

  She stood behind the command chair as if she didn’t have her wits. She asked,

  “Weapons scan of the prison?”

  Her second replied, “They’re bringing up power.”

  “Prepare to return fire and raise the shields.”

  “It’s one or the other.”

  One or the other?

  “Divert power to weapons, Drew,” Storm said, “and make her hum.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? Warp us out of here.” Shane spoke calmly, despite his growing unease. What good would freedom be if they died five minutes after rescue?

  She walked to the computer and worked with Drew. “Deploy.” After a second, she said with more force, “Deploy!”

  When the weapons fired the floor shook. Her ship was outdated when his Da was a boy and still pissing himself. From what Shane could see, not much work had gone into the antique vessel over the last half a century to make it flightworthy.

  “Status?” Storm asked.

  “We have a minute before I’d venture they use their secondary location to blast us to hell.”

  “Long enough,” Storm said, flipping switches as Shane heard power divert to bring the thrusters up.

  About damn time.

  Finn walked up behind him and spoke quietly. “First-rate transport, eh, Shane?”

  As the power for the thrusters rose, she righted herself and waited.

  After he counted to ten a second time, he reckoned he could walk faster with a broken leg and a hundred pound sack on his back. He prayed the transportation relic had the heart to hold together and pull free.

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  “Brace yourselves,” she said.

  Finn laughed and he nearly did too. Shane expected a small lurch before they fell from the sky in a flaming mass. At least they’d die laughing.

  “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and pretend you didn’t hear me,” she said.

  “Hold on.”

  His brother never learned that sometimes it wasn’t wise to make sport of a gal intent on something. Now and again, it was wise to play along. Besides, Shane sure as hell couldn’t take command and make things happen any faster. His GranDa might’ve had a clue what to do. With few options, he did what she’d asked. He held the back of the command chair and prepared. When the hum of power began fading, he let go to get out and push. It’d be faster.

  All of a sudden, a high-pitched whine screeched through the ship. He’d be deaf soon if it didn’t stop. Storm kicked the console with her wee boot and they lurched to warp speed. Naturally he and Finn fell with the motion and landed against a wall. His head was probably hurt and bloody like the gal’s but he couldn’t help laughing. They must look like fools, squished and flattened in a heap. At least they made it to space before the Doxyns blasted them.

  “They following, Drew?” Storm asked.

  “Nothing yet, but they signaled to an off-base location to ready ships.”

  “They won’t catch us. Not enough time.”

  The floor started vibrating and he got up before offering a hand to Finn. His men grumbled in the next room. They didn’t get the warning to hold on. “You need repairs.

  Where’s your mechanic?” Shane asked as he neared the gals.

  “You’re looking at her,” Storm replied.

  He’d been staring into her eyes. “Reilly!” Shane called. His man came quickly thereafter. “The gal’s fine craft needs a bit of work. Can you repair such a vessel?”

  “Aye, to be sure,” Reilly said with a smile, as the vibration from the floor chopped his words.

  If Reilly laughed, Shane would be obliged to kick his ass. Storm didn’t look happy, and more outward amusement at her ship’s expense would probably make her hostile.

  “Then get you to it, man.”

  “Aye, Shane. I’ll need others though. This is a mite more than I can handle on me own.” />
  “The others are just standing around looking at the scenery anyhow. Put them to work.”

  His wee Storm stood at the console, leaning on her hands. Her blood dripping onto the controls probably wouldn’t help Reilly’s repairs, so Shane walked over to see what she focused on.

  “How many crew do you have aboard, gal?”

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  She didn’t answer and he touched her shoulder. She turned to face him and he didn’t like the look of her. There wasn’t a hint of relief, concern or anything else on her face.

  “Storm?”

  “Three. Zoe’s in the engine room.” She nodded to her crewman, Drew and said,

  “This is Angela who’s manning the controls. And me.”

  “Three!” It’d take at least twelve to handle a ship this size. She lacked nine bodies.

  What the hell could she have been thinking?

  “Rendezvous coordinates, Angela. Are they locked in?” She used given names for her crew after they escaped the immediate danger.

  He wondered what hers could be.

  “Yes,” Angela replied.

  “How long until we reach them?”

  “An hour more or less. It depends on hardware issues.”

  “Contact them. Let them know we have the cargo.”

  “They’ll shit themselves, Jessica.”

  Jessica. It sounded too formal for the wee bloody gal. A smaller name with a bit of punch would suit her better.

  “They never expected you to pull it off,” Angela said.

  “Thanks to you and Zoe, we managed.”

  Shane instinctively reached out when Storm swayed. She stepped back and wiped blood out of her eye with the back of her hand. The wound near her scalp looked deep.

  It appeared to pain her too.

  She glanced up at him. “Appropriate clothing for you and your men—in the hold.

  Angela will show you. You can sterilize in a room off the mess hall. Food too. Eat.”

  “Jessica?” Angela asked.

  Storm waved and walked past them with unsteady steps. He wondered how far she’d get.

  “My cabin,” she said.

  His men watched her with weary concern. She’d aided them and suffered for it. As she walked by, their hands rose to steady her if she needed it. She didn’t.

  He said to Reilly, “Take care of Angela and send some brethren below to help Zoe with the engines. Do what you can in the time we have.”

  “Aye, Shane, don’t worry. Take care of the captain.”

  Her cabin wasn’t far and she never looked back to see him following. He walked into the tiny room after her and she pushed the torn dress from her shoulders before tugging off the boots. Her sanitizer resembled an upright coffin and she staggered straight to it. Behind the clear door, she reached up and braced herself as a white mist 21

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  clouded her image. After the cleaning she didn’t come out, just stood there with her head hung.

  He opened the door and she finally spared a glance but said naught. She looked too tired to speak. The wound on her scalp dribbled more blood.

  “I can fix your head if you’ll let me,” he said.

  “I doubt it.” An emotionless expression made her appear cold and bitter.

  He figured it had everything to do with the condition of her damaged head, because she’d been right affectionate when she’d gone down on him and hot-blooded in the ensuing battle. He grasped her arm and drew her from the shower. She came forward and he helped her sit on the wee bed.

  “We’ll get you dressed and I’ll take you to medical,” he said.

  “No medical, I’m fine.”

  “I can run a med unit for minor stuff, gal.”

  “Most beings can. There isn’t one on the ship.”

  That surprised him. He’d never been aboard a vessel without a healing unit. Thank the heavens none of them were hurt too badly.

  “There’s an aid kit somewhere in here. I can’t remember where.”

  He didn’t ask permission, just searched the drawers until he found what he sought.

  He took the kit and sat down beside her. As he unrolled a piece of gauze and folded it many times over, he kept his opinion to himself. A three-gal crew should at least have basic medical equipment aboard. The smattering of items in the box didn’t fill the need.

  “You’ll hold this on your cut for me?” he asked.

  Looking annoyed, she winced a bit when she placed the gauze against the split skin. The swelling around it grew and she’d nothing in her kit to settle it down. He gave it a minute and brushed her hand and the pad away to place small sealing strips over the cut to hold it together. At least she wouldn’t lose more blood. After replacing the cover and taping it in place, he looked at his work.

  “I never claimed to be a medical man,” he told her, so she wouldn’t be angry if she caught sight of her reflection. The lopsided wad of gauze stuck on her head looked as if his five-year-old brother had done the job. He hadn’t wanted to tape the damn thing to her hair so he did what he could. “Do you have something for ar’ghad?”

  She stared at him. He hated when the simplest terms escaped him. Thinking on it for a moment, the word came to him. “Pain. Do you have injections or pills to make the pain go?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  She stood and walked to a closet and pulled out a uniform like Angela’s. As she dressed, he leaned back on his elbows and watched. The gal had first-rate legs. To cover them in pants was a shame. The white uniform did naught for her color either, making her look more like a ghost than before. How could a gal that looked like her have no inkling as to her appeal? He was fairly sure Jess didn’t have a clue. Most pretty gals 22

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  would swing their hips an extra inch when they walked or would speak in a soft voice laced with double meanings. His wee Jess Storm didn’t display such things once she boarded the ship.

  He rubbed his chest before lightly fingering a scabbed-over cut. He needed to express gratitude for her help. She’d done a fine job in their rescue. He especially wanted to thank her for what she’d done with her mouth.

  “Miss Storm?”

  She turned while tucking in her shirt.

  He could see the faint bumps of the nipple piercings beneath the fabric. He forced himself to gaze at her eyes and not at what most fascinated him. “I want to thank you for your effort in yon prison. You risked your life and we’re grateful. Can I do something for you in return?”

  “You’ll pay. The Governance will detail it once you board their ship. They sent us.”

  He froze, hearing whom she’d blamed for their rescue. Anger rose and he couldn’t help what he said. “You’re telling a tale on who pulls your strings. Gov don’t send gals to do a man’s work.”

  “They did this time. Their military tactics would’ve gotten you all killed in the process of getting you out.”

  “You’ll go to hell for fibbing.”

  “You have about forty minutes to get cleaned up before you’ll board a Governance ship. Make use of the time. I’m sure the bite of meat you got in your cell wasn’t adequate.”

  He wouldn’t tolerate her being polite and changing subjects to avoid answering him. He stood and walked to her. She didn’t back up.

  “The Gov didn’t send you and they’ve no use for Braughmen. They’re too big, too strong a force to call on me tribe.” He’d called her a liar a second time. His Ma tried her best to teach him manners but his weren’t what they should be when his temper came up. When she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm so she’d stay put.

  “You’re acting a little too familiar, Tiernan. Let me go.”

  At least she showed some emotion. Her anger didn’t disturb him because he thought it better than the dead expression from a moment prior.

  “That’s what you get after taking me into your mouth, Storm. Familiar.”

  She looked lovel
y, her golden eyes sparkling with annoyance. It made her seem more normal, not like some cold, detached being who didn’t give two shats about a damn thing. Oh he liked the passion flowing from her. He’d something burning in him as well.

  Without thought, he leaned down and placed his lips against hers. She didn’t kiss him in return. He didn’t mind because she felt fine against him and tasted good too. It took a moment before she tried to punch him. He caught her fist and waited for her next move. He remembered how quick and merciless she’d been while fighting the 23

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  prison guards. If she’d a mind to, she could probably do some damage to him because he’d never fight with her. Not in a real way.

  She did nothing but stand there looking confused and worn out. There were other things they could do together that didn’t require either of them getting hurt. Forty minutes could be spent a number of ways. After what she’d done for him in the prison, he wanted a chance at turnabout to even the score.

  The ship suddenly jumped beneath their feet and she jerked free. Before she gained a foot of distance, he caught her shoulders and backed her against a wall. He put her there so they could speak to each other. He felt her tremble and it came from something more than anger, kissing or her wee broke ship. Most gals didn’t mind him being close.

  She did.

  He instantly set her free. A minute ago, she’d been ready to do battle. Despite her expression still relaying hostility, her eyes held dread and concern. What the hell? He didn’t touch her too roughly!

  “You have thirty-five minutes left, Tiernan.” Her heated words conflicted with her shaking voice.

  He stepped back to give her space and closely watched her reaction. She released a breath and wiped her palms down the front of her shirt. She’d need to learn she had nothing to fear. Not from a Braughman and never from him.

  “Aye, go to your Angela and check on your ship. I’ll see you in ten minutes and you’ll tell me why you came to fetch me and me men. Think fast, Storm and regale a better tale when next we speak.”

  * * * * *

  Jessica bumped into men at every turn. The ship barely accommodated twenty bodies, let alone twenty-two the size of Braughmen along with her and her crew.

  Angela worked diligently alongside Reilly, under the console panel, sifting through wires to straighten out part of the mess. The pride and joy of her home planet lacked a great deal compared to most transportation. The vessel reminded her how poor and ravished her world was.