by Alison Aimes
The knife quivered in the man’s hand.
“We are not here to hurt you or them,” said Jade. “At some point, you’ll have to trust someone.”
Same words he’d said to her.
The uncertainty in the air grew agonizing. The man’s tortured features painful to behold.
Finally, shoulders sinking, Tyson’s knife hand dropped to his side. “My family—”
“Family?” The fist in Ryker’s gut clenched tighter.
Bleak, ravaged eyes met his. “I have two young daughters.”
Pain surged from within, smashing past the barricades that kept Ryker sane.
Children. Here on Dragath25. It had been bad enough to witness what had been done to Rafi and Marika.
“Ryker.” The light touch at his shoulder ripped him from his hell. “Where are you going?”
His chin jerked up, his gaze colliding with concerned emerald eyes. Somehow, without realizing it, he’d started out the door.
The grip on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly. “Stay with me, big guy.”
He fought to catch his breath. His chest heaving as if he’d just run the length of the planet.
Which was exactly what he suddenly wanted to do. Start running and never stop.
He couldn’t handle any more obligations. Wasn’t meant to play the hero. He’d already failed the child who mattered most. He could easily fail Jade. The others. And now two young girls who never should have been stuck in this hell.
“Just breathe.” His assassin’s voice was as cool as ever. “I know this is a sore spot for you and I’m sorry, but this is not the time to lose it. Those people back in the cave need you. So does Tyson’s family.” She paused. “Plus, you know how much I suck at this whole caretaking thing.”
Her stab at humor was the slap he needed. He cast a sidelong glance her way, breathing suddenly easier. “That must really hurt to admit.”
She shrugged. “Not as much as it will hurt for you to replay this moment and recall how well I soothed your ass.”
He muffled a snort. This woman. She’d chained him up. Pissed him off. Fucked him like a pro. And brought him back from the edge when he least expected it.
What the hell was he supposed to do about someone like her?
“Take your time.” Her hand dropped away and his skin instantly missed the contact. “But when you’ve pulled it together, come back to us. We’re temporary partners, after all.”
After a departing line like that, he didn’t even make it two breaths before he’d squared his shoulders and rejoined them. He was not about to pussy-out on her.
Even if kids were his fucking kryptonite.
Tyson was already in full explanation mode. “I was separated from them a few rotations past. The guards came in the night, rounded us up, and beat us until we followed. I didn’t even get to say good-bye.” His voice cracked. “I overheard my captors later. My group was earmarked for labor and sexual service at the settlement. My daughters’ group”—he wrestled for control—“slated to be used as targets for weapon testing.”
Dragath hell.
“I’ve been trying to get back to them ever since.”
Ryker had been right about the man’s good Samaritan predilections all along.
“They’re not biologically mine.” Now that he’d begun, Tyson couldn’t seem to stop, pain bleeding from every word. “Their mother, Luna, arrived here after me. There was nothing between us, but when she became pregnant I tried to help her.” He gulped, looked away. “Most female slaves don’t survive, much less their babies. But Luna’s girls somehow did and they were so young, so vulnerable. I…I did everything I could to protect them.”
Ryker understood. His son had been his hope, his heart, his soul. They’d never met face-to-face, but it hadn’t made a difference. His son had already mattered above all else.
“I have to find a way to save them.” Desperation thickened Tyson’s voice. “I know…I know you want into 223’s hideout. I know you want information on where the weapon is, but I don’t know any of that. I just want to save my family.”
“Understood.” Jade’s certainty was resolute. “I will help you.”
No matter that she had a weapon to obtain. Or the fact that her own demise was imminent. Or, that up until recently she’d been the bogeyman for people like Tyson and his children. She faced the next challenge fearlessly.
He envied her such focus.
Two sets of eyes swung toward him, awaiting his answer.
More responsibility. More obligation. More people who could be hurt under his watch.
“We’ll both go with you,” he confirmed. There were some things one could not walk away from, no matter how much it dredged up the past.
“We’ll have to move fast.” Jade was already shifting to planning mode. “Plus, with our increasing numbers, the caves will only suffice for the short term.”
“I know a place where they’ll be welcome long-term. My team is establishing a settlement on the other side of the highest ridge, one free from the oppression back on New Earth and absent of the abuse of 223 and his gang. We’re barely more than a few well-built structures at this point, but it will be something worth being part of one rotation soon.”
Surprise and delight lightened her stare. “That will work well.”
“It sounds wonderful.” Tyson sounded more hesitant, as if didn’t quite believe.
“You didn’t mention this before.” Her words were more curious than accusatory. “Why?”
He opened his mouth to explain—and then realized he didn’t have a good answer.
“You would really take us there? You mean it?” Tyson’s barrage of fearful questions ended the awkward lengthening silence. “Why would you help us like that?”
“Ryker has lost a wife and a child and knows well the agony of such loss.” Unlike him, Jade didn’t even hesitate. “He will do whatever it takes to make sure no one else has to go through what he did.” Her words were exactly what he would have said. “Likewise,” she continued, “I have known what it is like to be helpless and preyed upon and, I promise you, I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that the people hurting your daughters never have the chance to harm them again.”
Her words cut like a knife.
His assassin was so strong and skilled. The reminder that she’d been helpless, that her employers had stolen her power and made her feel the victim, left him bleeding.
“Thank you,” sobbed Tyson. “Thank you so much. I’ve lived in hell for so long I barely remember who I was before, but I—I never thought I’d get the chance to show my daughters what living free means.”
“Please know I was never aware of the Council’s horrific transgressions, not even as unsubstantiated rumors,” she told the man. The tightness at the corners of her mouth the only giveaway at the depth of her upset.
“Do you think we would ever think otherwise?” Ryker spoke before Tyson could. His fears about his growing feelings for her not enough to stop him from reaching out to her when she was hurting. “If you had been aware of these injustices before now, I know you would have done something to end it. No matter the risk. It’s who you were then. It’s who you are now.”
“Thank you for knowing that.” Her voice was a whisper, her stare a soft caress that stole his breath. He was already so fucking wrapped up in her, an ex-Council assassin with a potential expiration date.
“We will do whatever it takes.” Unaware of his troubled thoughts, Jade had returned her attention to Tyson and the matter at hand. “I was sent here to retrieve and destroy that weapon and I will. In the meantime, I”—her gaze flicked to him—“we will do whatever it takes to free your daughters.”
Ryker’s chest swelled. We. They’d bandied about the term partner but it had never felt more real.
For better or worse, sensible or not, his feelings for this woman were growing stronger with every heartbeat.
The notion of a future, one that didn’t stretch as barren or mise
rably as it once had, was suddenly almost possible—and it terrified him like nothing had in a long time.
22
“It’s not too much more now.” Tyson’s voice was a mix of strain and anguished hope as he stumbled forward. “I recognize this ridge.”
Even with Ryker propping him up, the guy was barely upright, the thought of his daughters likely all that was keeping his exhausted, bruised body moving forward.
That kind of love was truly inspiring.
Her gaze flickered to the broad, tattooed back of the man with his arm slung over Tyson’s shoulder. Ryker.
Nothing in her training had prepared her for him.
If you had been aware of these injustices before now, I know you would have done something to end it. No matter the risk. It’s who you were then. It’s who you are now.
She’d always thought she’d be alone until either another operative or her employers found a way to end her life, but Ryker’s talk of partnership was beginning to feel real.
Was she only fooling herself? And would such irrational longings only make her weaker than she’d once been? Fractured concentration. Divided allegiance. Selfish, illogical cravings. Her employers had warned her against all three and, up until now, her mission rate had been flawless.
But staving off her growing attachment to Ryker was proving impossible. Her hunger for him a wild, raw, reckless craving that would not be satisfied by anything else. Even the thought of impending death.
So, she would watch and she would wait. She would hope that such a weakness would not put him and the others in further danger.
Because she would never forgive herself if her first failure occurred when the mission—when the people, and one in particular—mattered most.
“There!” Tyson’s shout yanked her from her thoughts.
In the distance, a circle of boulders ringed with old Earth barbed wire was just visible in the haze of swirling debris.
She grabbed Tyson’s arm before he could spring forward. “Wait.” Scanning the area, she observed a handful of huddled forms, all bunched together and clinging to the side of one of the larger boulders. Tyson’s family and friends.
The bastard guards hadn’t even bothered to lead their captives to a more protected area to wait out the storm.
“Assessment?” She pitched her voice to be heard over the howling wind. Normally, she wouldn’t have bothered. She would have simply assessed the situation once she had visual confirmation of the number of targets and their proximity to innocents and acted accordingly, preferring to count on her own abilities.
But Ryker, she was beginning to understand, could be counted upon. And he definitely had a thing about teamwork so…she was trying.
“I don’t see any guards. You?” Ryker’s low voice was a brush across her skin.
He was holding it together, but she knew this would be hard for him. The introduction of vulnerable children a whole different level of engagement with his past. The fact that his friend was still missing and might be experiencing some kind of similar hell couldn’t be helping, either.
“No guards.” She surveyed the area once more, looking for hidey-holes and ambush sites, but the open clearing was fairly free of such concerns. Still, wariness prickled down her spine.
“Looks like the bastards chained them up and then abandoned them at the first sight of the storm.” Ryker clutched his ax tighter, his attempt to sound calm valiant, but unnecessary. One had only to look at the brutal clench of his jaw to know how close he was to losing it altogether. “It will make retrieval easier. But I was seriously looking forward to killing those bastards.”
“Agreed,” she answered. “On both counts.” It was nice to have someone to bounce ideas off. Especially someone who understood exactly where she was coming from.
“It is okay to go to them?” Tyson shifted restlessly beneath her hold.
“Yes, but we move cautiously and let Ryker take the lead while I handle the rear. We don’t want any surprises.”
They were at the gate when her alarms started blaring. Something wasn’t right. She scanned the area. Too easy. And there was something off about the crowd, their bodies smashed tight as they did their best to ward off the wind and the sharp sting of swirling debris. They were too…still. Too watchful.
“Ryker.” She raised her weapon higher.
“I feel it, too.” He saddled closer, pulling ahead and putting himself more squarely in front of her and Tyson.
Did he think he was being subtle? That she wouldn’t know what he was about? Still, she let him indulge those foolish protective impulses for a short while. Mostly because it would in no way impede her ability to strike first. Hidden behind his wide shoulders was actually a more effective ambush point.
They stalked closer, Tyson’s impatience beating at them as they made their way toward the huddled crowd.
Too still. Too tense. The figures in the crowd shifted, but not one turned in their direction. The storm was intense, masking any approach, but the fact that no one had noticed their impending arrival felt…deliberate.
“Hope! Melody!” Tyson’s voice rung out as he spotted his girls. He launched himself forward, his shoulder slamming into hers as he came abreast of Ryker.
Civilians. Absolutely no control. Or survival skills.
Her hand snapped out. Jerking him to her.
Just as the crowd parted.
Several events occurred almost simultaneously. Someone tucked the children back into the sea of limbs. Ryker raised his ax high. The glint of a weapon flared in the middle of the crowd, the flash of the blade spiraling toward Ryker’s head.
A trap.
“Duck!” she yelled, shoving Tyson to the side as her stomach dropped and she prayed Ryker would be fast enough.
But she could do no more than blink when her felon knocked the weapon to the side with the flat of his ax as if it were nothing more than an irritating insect and then, instead of initiating a counterattack, stood there, stock-still, staring straight ahead.
The quickest way to get killed.
She opened her mouth to order him to move.
“Grif?” Ryker’s voice was little more than a croak.
Ah, now that made more sense. Her mouth snapped shut.
23
“Watch the side, you big bastard. I’m injured.”
“You watch that tongue, you ugly sweet-talker, there are kids present.”
Jade hid a sigh. It had been like that for the last little while. The two massive forms caught in a near-mystifying reunion.
Ryker hovered over his friend’s half-prone body, his arm slung beneath the other man’s back. The two of them rotated between hugs, back slaps, and name calling. Along with insults. So many insults.
At least the other reunion had been less complicated.
The moment she had assessed that the threat was over and released Tyson, he had launched himself forward, shouting his daughters’ names.
They’d come together in a rush, tiny limbs locking around his waist as Tyson’s bruised arms stretched to surround them. A tangle of bodies that stood unwavering against the battering wind.
A definite lump formed in Jade’s throat. Family. She’d always thought it a wonderful concept. But until recently she hadn’t had many chances to see its power up close. Her gaze strayed once more to the man who’d had all that and lost it.
“What the hell happened to you anyway?” Ryker was finally getting around to asking useful questions as he leaned in to examine his friend’s injury, the lines of his face shifting to grim. “You scared the hell out of me with your disappearing bullshit.”
“Hey, watch it, asshole.” His friend’s handsome features tightened into a grimace as Ryker’s fingers ghosted over the burn. “That stings.”
His friend would survive, but his wounds were extensive.
Laser guns were extremely rare on Dragath25, but somehow Ryker’s friend had acquired an injury from one. She suspected 223 and his men had found some on those s
ame downed ships where they’d discovered the technology needed to make their lethal weapon. The dust storm would make such devices mostly inoperable, but it was good to know in advance they were out there. Contending with axes, knives and spears was one thing. Dodging laser guns was far more difficult.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Indifferent to the slur—or the slapping hands—Ryker poked at the deepest gash and the makeshift bandage slapped over it. “I missed you, man. And not having my right-hand man around to help? Hell.”
His words left her…off-kilter.
Her gaze shifted to the others huddled only a few paces away. Tyson stood in the middle, his expression earnest as he explained who she and Ryker were. She considered going over to aid him, but her introductions didn’t always go as planned. Probably best to leave him to it.
Standing alone, she scanned the horizon for any threat as an irritating hollowness creeped through her veins.
Of course, Ryker was glad to have his friend back. She was happy for him. The man had suffered too many losses already.
But there was no denying he had his true partner back now. Her usefulness in this regard at an end.
She should be relieved. Now she was free to pursue the weapon without the burden of responsibility. And meet her impending fate without the confusing longings that threatened to disrupt her calm acceptance. But, illogical or not, she wasn’t comforted.
The autonomy that had been so natural before now stretched before her like a sentence.
She rubbed at the ache in her chest. It had been surprisingly nice having a partner.
She had no idea what would happen now with Ryker. Their alliance had always been temporary. He hadn’t even mentioned his home to her as he had to Tyson. But she understood. Despite what he said, they both knew there was a good chance she’d not be around in a few rotations. Still, she had expected—if she was being truthful, looked forward—to spending the time she had left with him.
But some things were not meant to be. Even for the short term.
“What do you mean where did I disappear to?” Ryker’s voice, full of outrage, reached her over the wind. “You were supposed to be my lookout.”