Darr

by Theresa Beachman

  There.

  A small red dot on the map, but without the ‘You Are Here’ sign favored by tourist maps. They were deep in the base, but he’d known that already.

  “We can either head out the way we came—through the vehicle hangar—or through the ammunitions depot that’s connected to the mine.” He swore under his breath, his mind racing. Everything was a shitty choice and he had no idea if the Scutter had escaped or killed the second man.

  Violet disturbed his train of thought by tugging at his elbow. “Darr?”

  “Ammunitions or vehicle depot, V?”

  Violet squinted as she followed the lines he indicated. “This,” she said, pointing to a completely different orange line.

  Darr peered where she was pointing. “What the hell is that?”

  “Escape route. Hatch opens into a mine shaft that leads to the surface.” She looked him straight in the eye. “We’ll come back for Cassy and Fiona?”

  “Yes. Prepared. Not like this.” He gestured at the two handguns they carried. “You’ve seen how organized they are. We have nothing. We’ll come back.”

  He released her arm and took her hand in his, enjoying the feel of her skin against his palm. As long as she was with him, he’d keep her safe.

  She gave him the briefest nod, the green of her eyes shimmering.

  Shit, she trusts me. He swallowed the lump of lie in his throat and gave her his best smile. “Come on.”

  They sprinted to the end of the corridor and took a sharp left, almost colliding with two men running at full pelt.

  Violet stuck out her foot, sending one man sprawling to the grimy rock floor. Before he had time to regain his footing, she was on him, kneeing his shoulder blades and scooping up his pulse rifle. She ripped the safety strap from his arm and jammed the nose of the weapon against his jugular.

  Darr grabbed the pulse rifle from the man’s companion in a clean swipe. The rifle fired, searing the wall with a blast of blue energy. Rock fragments exploded clogging the stale atmosphere with a thick cloud of suffocating particles.

  Darr crunched the rifle barrel against the man’s nose. It exploded in an impressive splat of blood. Darr winced, muttering an apology before he hammered the weapon sideways into the man’s temple, bringing the altercation to a quick end. The man groaned and wobbled, then dropped soundlessly, his knees folding under him like a concertina.

  When Darr turned, Violet had already knocked the other man out with the butt of her gun. He admired the way she didn’t back down and got the job done even in difficult circumstances. He liked it more than was good for him, probably.

  Violet climbed off the unconscious man and grinned. “Not too shabby together?”

  Darr flashed her a smile. “You okay?”

  She nodded, falling into step with him as they ran on, heading for the end of the corridor. It would be only a matter of minutes before the men were found and a full search began.

  “Darr.” Violet slowed and indicated a recess in the wall where the first rung of a steel ladder hung four feet off the floor. From there, it climbed fifteen feet upward to a painted metal hatch.

  The escape route.

  Darr grabbed Violet by the hips and boosted her onto the first step. She barely weighed anything at all. He tried to focus on the wail of the alarm and not the soft pressure of her backside against the palm of his hand or her scent of soap and roses.

  Her hands gripped the ladder, then her weight was off him, and she was climbing. When she was at the top, she reached up and pushed the hatch lid open then disappeared into the darkness.

  Shouts echoed down the corridor.

  Darr spun. Three men sprinted toward him, their voices loud and angry. Instantly he fired the stolen pulse rifle, forcing the men to duck for cover. He swept a final spray of liquid energy then grabbed the ladder, monkeying up as fast as his arms and legs would carry him. He squirmed through the hatch and slammed the metal lid back into place.

  Almost immediately, the lid bumped as fists punched it loose from underneath. Thick fingers appeared in the gap, along with a furious tirade of expletives as the opening was pressed further open.

  Without hesitation, Darr ground his boot heel onto the exploring fingers. Bones abraded under the assault, the nauseating sensation traveling up the muscles of his leg. He ignored the pig-like squeals and stamped harder, his breath coming in short, hot pants.

  Finally, he lifted his boot, releasing the mangled hand. Before it could be replaced with something more lethal, Darr jumped on the lid.

  He aimed the pulse rifle low, firing a point-blank bolt of energy against the metal and instantly fusing the lid at several points. Heavy thuds vibrated up through his soles, but his makeshift defense held.

  Darr gripped the cold rungs and began to climb, expecting Violet to be moving.

  She wasn’t.

  Something was wrong.

  16

  Violet’s head banged on the metal cap of the emergency escape shaft. Her mouth stung with coppery blood from where she’d bitten her tongue and claustrophobia nipped at her heels. From below, angry voices and the loud clanging of battered metal continued. In the gloom, it was impossible to gauge how much time Darr had bought them.

  “This. Fucking. Thing.” Hot pent-up breath burst from her as she strained with both hands, but it was immovable.

  Darr was at her feet. “What’s the holdup?”

  “End of the line. I can’t get it to budge,” she panted, unsure if she was out of breath from exertion or anxiety.

  “Let me help.” Without waiting for an answer, Darr began to climb.

  Violet pressed forward, her arms gripping the side struts of the ladder. Darr’s body invaded her space as he rose higher, his front to her back. The top of his head leveled against her legs, his cheek skimming past her thighs and backside. His breath puffed warm through thin fabric, forcing her to stare up into the blackness.

  She chewed her lip and closed her eyes, hugging the struts as if her life depended on it. Darr was lean, all hard, athletic muscle, but in the confines of the narrow vertical space, he was larger, absorbing every spare inch around her. As he drew level, the breadth of his chest pressed against her shoulder blades. Violet willed herself into the ladder, but it was no use, everything was too cramped. Her stomach flipped against her will, heat pulsing traitorously between her legs as his rock-hard body rubbed against her in slow progression.

  He climbed higher, the chilled rungs digging into her belly, squeezing the air from her lungs. She didn’t dare breathe, in case the movement pressed her back into the heat of him. His breath tickled the hair on her neck, scorching a spiral of electricity down her spine. It circled in the small of her back, igniting coils of excitement in her lower abdomen. Her knees softened, and her palms were slick against the metal. Only the hot press of his body kept her upright.

  What if he felt the insane acceleration of her heartbeat against his skin? She was glad of the relative darkness, so he couldn’t see her blush. Blush? Her face was a furnace, just like every other damn nerve in her body.

  Finally, his long arms stretched up above her head, and he pushed at the capped lid. His thighs trembled with the effort, the exertion of his muscles flaring through her body. Her mouth went dry, and she closed her eyes, desperately trying to think of something other than the toned, masculine form pressed into her thighs, ass, and spine.

  He fitted her perfectly.

  Darr grunted as he fought with the hatch above her head. At last, the seal gave with a grating protest and sprang free. Icy moonlight flooded the mineshaft as he levered himself effortlessly out of the hole.

  Cold air bathed Violet’s crimson face. A litany of thanks cascaded through her scattered thoughts. The light shifted, and Darr was outlined by stars, his hand extended downward. She slipped her hand into his warm palm, and his fingers grasped her forearm, locking their bodies together.

  He pulled her free, catching her on the outside. Solid arms secured her before she lost her
balance, snagging her safe against his chest and holding her there for a moment. Violet was aware her feet were dangling above the lip of the tunnel, and only Darr was preventing her from tumbling into nothingness. Then he stepped to the side and placed her on solid ground with infinite care, as if she was a precious piece of china.

  Violet was used to camaraderie with the other men at the Command Base, but Darr handled her like she was delicate. She tucked an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear, taking the time to get her physical responses under control. Darr was dangerous and he was keeping something from her, even if she hadn’t worked out what it was yet. He was the last person she was ever going to get involved with.

  And yet.

  When she straightened, her breathing and pulse easing, he was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. She looked away, fussing with her weapon, grateful for chill night air soothing her skin.

  Darr cleared his throat. “This way.” He beckoned with two fingers, and she followed, tracing a path up the narrow sheep track that wound through the gorse and scrub. Stunted woodland surrounded them, interspersed with patches of clothes-tearing bracken and treacherous with wiry roots that snagged at her boots. The winter air penetrated their clothes in seconds.

  Without warning, Darr tumbled, landing heavily on his side, clutching his temples. His lips drew back in a grimace of pain, flecks of spit dotting the corners of his mouth as he curled into a protective ball.

  Violet dropped to her knees next to him, trying to move his hands away to see what was wrong, but he flinched from her touch as if electrocuted.

  Another boatload of adrenalin dumped in her bloodstream, constricting her stomach into a tight, acid ball. They were still way too close to the Box. “Darr? What’s wrong?”

  A soft moan escaped his lips as alien screeching filled the air around her.

  Violet hunkered down, draping her body protectively over Darr’s head. What the hell was she going to do? They were being chased by a group of Neanderthal men who lived underground and wanted to lock her up, while trying to avoid insectoid aliens that wanted to rip them apart.

  Voices floated in the wind, and she peered over the edge of the bracken. They were perilously close to the clearing where they’d been captured. Five men surrounded a pickup truck, stabbing at something in the trailer with cattle prods. The loud zap of electricity fizzed against Violet’s eardrums, and the ammonia scent of torched protein filled her nostrils. She ducked her head and smothered a cough. With her sleeve over her mouth and nose, she risked another look, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  The men were manhandling a Scutter out of the pickup. All five had a long pole with a retracting loop attached the end. Three of them had the loop secured around the Scutter’s neck, while the other two controlled the massive front talons. Its scorpion-like tail was bound with rope, the poisonous barbed tip restrained. Swearing profusely, they dragged the Scutter from the truck onto the snowy ground. The Scutter bucked and shrieked, but the men laughed and prodded it in a crackle of blue sparks every time it resisted.

  Violet’s lips parted in horror as they edged the creature toward the dark entrance of the mine she’d just escaped. Were they taking that thing into the mine? What the fuck was that about?

  She turned and checked on Darr. He’d crawled to his hands and knees. As she heard the heavy slam of the mine door below, Darr lurched onto his feet and took a stumbling step away then threw up in a retching, hacking cough.

  Finished, he rested on his heels wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His face was ashen, but at least he wasn’t writhing in pain anymore.

  Violet took another nervous glance at the closed door. There was something going on. Something unspoken. A link? Between him and the Scutter? “Okay to go on?” she asked.

  He nodded, and she took his hand. Whatever it was, it could wait.

  “Hey!”

  Violet turned.

  A small group of men had returned to the clearing below, weapons trained in their direction. On the edge of the bracken, a tall and dazed Darr was an easy target.

  Violet ducked, yanking Darr low as laser fire pulsed through the air and clods of earth detonated to her right. She guided him left onto a stony track between the snow-dusted bushes.

  Here she could run faster, and she put on a spurt of speed, desperately ignoring the lancing pain in her bruised ribs and the thin harshness of the night air as she gasped for breath. With every step, her thighs screamed, the muscles on their final reserves of energy. A flutter of panic looped through her belly.

  But this road was familiar. The car. Darr’s shitty-yet-fantastic car was close. His grip ground together the bones of her hand, but she didn’t let go, intent on getting him to safety. Bent double, she belted around a corner, stooping low under the warped form of a bare tree.

  There it was, parked badly, still hidden by low-hanging branches.

  She released Darr’s hand, and he threw himself into the vehicle, revving the engine before she even had her backside on the passenger seat. He rammed the tiny gearstick into reverse and punched the gas. Violet’s head snapped forward from the rapid acceleration. She cried out, grabbing for purchase on the slippy, plastic car interior.

  Darr was oblivious. His eyes wide and his mouth hard with concentration, he reversed like a madman, accelerating away from their pursuers in a crazy, half-blind skid down the track into the waiting darkness.

  17

  Darr’s knuckles ached. His hands were clamped to the cold plastic of the steering wheel.

  “You can ease off now.” Violet’s hand closed over his white fingers. “We lost them. You’re going to crash. Ease off.”

  Her words finally percolated into his brain, and Darr lifted his foot from the accelerator. The screaming engine died to a cheap roar and no longer sounded like it was on the point of imminent implosion.

  “Turn the car.”

  He nodded and braked, bringing the car to a halt where the road widened. He turned the vehicle, but before driving off, he clasped her hand briefly. If it hadn’t been for her, he probably would have been shot, his brain in disarray from the nearness of the Scutter in the clearing. She’d saved his life. The right words eluded him. “Thanks.”

  She returned his grip and squeezed his fingers, long seconds ticking between them. Then she slipped her hand back onto her lap, and the moment was gone. “You’re welcome.”

  He switched on the headlights. The wind was picking up and spiky tree-shadows lashed across the road.

  “Let’s get out of here.” He changed gears and hit the gas, eager to put as much distance between him, the Box, and its imprisoned Scutters as possible. What had that been? Now out of the mine, the reality of what had happened in that cage hit him square in the chest. Beads of sweat dampened his forehead.

  The Scutter had understood his thoughts. The tenuous one-way connection he’d thought existed was a robust two-way channel. The potential was devastating. Access to survivor’s locations. Their resources. The myriad of implications made him lightheaded. He was a walking liability to the human race.

  Branches whipped against his door, reminding him of the Scutter’s talons. Was there anything good that could come from this? The way the Scutter had responded to a direct mental push from him…he had steered it.

  There was potential power there if he knew how to harness it. Was he capable of that kind of control? He rapped the steering wheel, his mind tripping itself up in an endless loop. He had no idea. It was a complete unknown. A low branch smashed a headlight. Darr swerved, his chain of thought disrupted.

  He risked a glance at Violet. She scanned the wintery gloom outside, oblivious to his torment. To what he was. Her brow wrinkled as she worried at her lip again. He wanted to soothe the agitation from her forehead. Kiss those lips.

  He looked back to the road, the blatant truth of the words burning through him. He didn’t know when it had happened—the shift from wanting to abandon her in the burning van to wanting to kiss her
. It hit him then. There was more here than the two of them evading Judge’s men and helping other survivors. His feelings had been transformed by seeing her compassion for others, her refusal to give up on life despite the grimness of the world they now inhabited.

  He ignored his tingling skin. It wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t tell her. The looks, the energy that sparked between them when they touched. It had to stop before she knew what a freak he was, before that difference put her at risk.

  Unaware of his anguish, Violet fell back in her seat and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hands. “We should go straight to the Command Base. I don’t even want to think about what they might do to Cassy and that little girl now we’ve escaped.”

  His protective shield let loose, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “We nearly died getting out of there, Violet.”

  She folded her arms at his negative tone. “You don’t need to help if you don’t want to. It’s blatantly obvious you prefer not to have contact with the human race.”

  Her words sliced right through him, accentuating the loneliness and isolation, everything he’d endured because he was dangerous, a link to the Chittrix. The idea that she thought he would allow a man like Judge to hurt a child or woman by his inaction boiled inside of him in a swirling mess. He swallowed it all, deep into his belly. He couldn’t reveal what he really was, but he could take her home and ensure she had the resources to get Cassy and the child to safety.

  “I’m taking you home, and we’ll get help.”

  Violet stared out the window, ignoring him, but their gaze connected in the dark reflection of the car window.

  Darr dragged his attention back to the road ahead. It was better that she thought he was a heartless bastard who only cared about himself. That way, she wouldn’t find it hard to let him go, and perhaps it would also make it easier for him to leave her when the time came.