She would perish above ground. There was no point of existence without her.
With a sorrowful look, Thalia disappeared into the shadows.
“I’ll find you!” he shouted. “They cannot hold me.”
An unseen hand delivered a blow to the back of his head. Bright sparks of light dotted his vision.
Havik growled, knowing he faced a harsh reality. Even if he defeated all the warriors present, by the time he reached Thalia she’d be ill from radiation or frozen from exposure. He hated them. All his past irritation, annoyance, and grumbling was nothing to the white heat that burned his heart to a black cinder. The fire would consume him, which was the best outcome because he would not go on without Thalia.
But first, they all must die.
Chapter 23
Havik
He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. His expression must have transmitted his every thought. He was never good at deception, unlike Kaos. The male breathed lies and deceit as readily as air.
Havik growled, ready.
“Do not be foolish,” Kaos said. “Reinforcements are coming.”
“Good.”
Kaos opened his mouth to continue boasting or making idle threats. He talked too much. How had Havik never noticed that before? Using that opening, he reached for the male nearest him and smashed his forehead into the male’s nose.
The male reeled back, clutching his broken nose.
Havik grabbed the blaster from the male’s hip and shot him in the chest. The male fell to the ground.
The warriors swarmed Havik and knocked the blaster out of his hand. He blocked blows and dodged, falling into a rhythm. Sound and extraneous details fell away. All that existed in that moment was his blood pounding, his breath laboring, and the burn in underused muscle.
He missed this. Not the betrayal from his father, though that occurred with disappointing frequency, but fighting all-out, holding nothing back. Sparring with Ren was different. Their competition was too friendly. Ren did not push himself hard enough, and Havik found he instinctively pulled his punches.
His blood sang with joy as his fists met his opponent but four on one was unsustainable. He grew slower. Their blows landed more and more. His blows hit with less strength. The more time he wasted with these males, the less likely he would be able to find Thalia in time.
This needed to end. He needed to retreat to a defensible position or at least find a weapon.
A blow landed solidly on his jaw. Havik landed on his back.
Kaos shouted an order. The other warriors puffed out their chests, like the battle was already over.
Havik rolled to his feet and retreated down the tunnel, toward the entrance. If he could reach the vehicle, there was a weapons cache in the back. If he was very lucky, his ID chip would unlock the trunk. If not, he would have to improvise.
The frigid night air slapped Havik, shocking his senses awake. Finding his mate took priority. What he needed to accomplish that task jumbled in his head. Transportation. Kill the warriors so they could not follow. Get medical care or a kit. Water. Shove a blade through Kaos’ black heart.
That.
That was his first task.
An engine roared overhead and warm air blasted down. Light blinded him. Kaos’ reinforcements finally arrived.
The tasks reordered themselves. Eliminate the reinforcements. Then drive a blade through Kaos’ black heart.
“Surrender. You cannot win now,” Kaos boasted.
Sand exploded. A large kumakre burst through, claws slashing all in its path. On its back…
Havik blinked because he was obviously hallucinating. Perhaps he was already bleeding out onto the sands. These last moments were nothing more than random firings of his neurons and synapses because that made more sense than what he saw.
Thalia rode the back of the kumakre, a fist held high as she let out a war cry. A cold wind blew her hair into every direction, the color of sand and green. She glowed in the moonlight, a vengeful dencadiz there to deliver justice at the point of a sword or fearsome beast.
The kumakre shrieked and reared back, deadly claws lashing out.
Kaos’ warriors scattered, diving for cover.
Thalia called his name, pulling him into the maelstrom. Something in her raised hand gleamed in the moonlight. She flung it toward him, and he caught the object. With a confident grin, she dove off the back of the kumakre, gracefully tumbling onto the sand.
The kumakre’s tail curled and flexed, displaying pale blue stripes.
“Stabs?”
Thalia
The paint was obviously worn and flaking, but she knew her Stabs in an instant. He was ginormous and seemed to understand this was not the time for a reunion. She did not have time to wonder at his rapid growth.
They burst through the sand to find Havik surrounded and weaponless. Fortunately, their entrance caused enough of a distraction that she flung the utility knife to Havik.
Kaos rushed her man. Havik lashed out with the utility knife, aiming for the unprotected swathes of skin: hands, neck, and face.
A red line bloomed across Kaos’ cheek. He roared, swinging the mace with force. Havik rolled to dodge but he moved too slowly and caught the blow on his shoulder.
Kaos stood over him, mace raised and ready to bludgeon his only son. “Beg,” he said.
Thalia knew in her core that Havik wouldn’t beg for mercy from a male who would murder his child for perceived insults to his reputation. She just needed him to live long enough for her to think of something. He needed a weapon, a proper one. Something stabby and shooty.
She scanned the crowd, hoping for a conveniently fallen body and gun. Stabs made progress through the minions, judging from the screaming. Blood splashed across the sand, black in the moonlight. She dashed to the closest body.
The man fell face-down on top of his rifle. Well, face-down if he still had a face. Stabs took off his head and he bled profusely.
Gross.
With both hands on the body’s side, she tried to roll him over, or at least shift him enough to retrieve the rifle. The fucker was heavy.
And sticky.
“You are a bad warlord and a terrible father and a worse male,” Havik said. “You should beg me.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Havik should not be antagonizing his dad. She just needed more time. Her back strained and her arms felt like jelly. She was so tired.
The body rocked. She succeeded in freeing half the rifle. Frustrated tears rolled down her face and she shouted, beating her hands against the impossibly heavy headless bastard.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t be what I needed,” Kaos said, bringing the mace down.
Thalia screamed. No. She just found Havik. She couldn’t lose him.
He picked her.
The universe owed it. It fucking owed her.
Stabs’ long stinger pierced Kaos from the back, directly through the heart. The mace fell harmless to the ground. The man gasped and twitched. His eyes went wide, as if he could not believe that such a thing would happen to him.
The other warriors stood still, as if a switch had been flipped. Havik slowly dragged himself to his feet.
Thalia flung herself at Havik. “You fucking idiot!”
He huffed, wrapping his arms around her. “A liar and a thief, indeed,” he said.
“Well, I thought you’d get the message. Sneak away when you could. I had it covered.”
Havik
“You require a medic. Now,” Havik said, clutching her in his arms.
In an instant, he weighed all his options. He did not trust the clan’s medic. Seeking assistance from another clan put him in the same position. He did not know their loyalties to protecting females—any female—or their sympathies with Kaos’ exclusionary policy. He could only trust himself. Unfortunately, he did not have the skill to treat Thalia’s injury.
He needed time.
“Your father—”
“Blast him into a black hole.
The sand can take him.” That male. His treachery knew no bounds. Havik felt disgust for breathing the same air, let alone sharing a name.
“He needs a medic,” his mate said, because she was a good person.
“The kumakre venom struck his heart,” he said, as if his father had a heart. “He will be dead in moments. There is nothing to be done.” The venom burning through Kaos’ veins would be agony and the male deserved to feel every moment. Perhaps one of his honorless warriors would end his misery, but Havik sincerely hoped not. Regardless, he would not be there to witness his father’s end.
“Mais is still in the tunnels. She had a head wound that needs to be looked at. We need to find her.”
“Your compassionate heart will be your undoing,” he said. “Your condition is more urgent. When I can, I will find Mais. She can come with us or I will deliver her to a safe location.” His mate nodded in agreement. Adjusting his hold on Thalia to minimize contact with her reddened skin, he headed to the nearest ship.
“We need a fast ship!” he shouted as they approached the clan’s vessel. “I claim this craft. Does anyone challenge my right?”
Loitering crew members scattered, not a one with enough honor and self-respect to look him in the eyes.
“We have a ship,” Thalia said in a quiet voice. She sounded weak. The sun had already turned her skin an alarming red, and her lips were cracked with dehydration.
“Are you nauseous? Headache? Dizzy?”
“Yes, because you’re bouncing me around. Walk. Don’t run.”
“No.” He ran, footsteps thundering up the ramp.
The hatch closed and the lights turned blue, initiating decontamination. A computer-generated voice counted down. Havik set Thalia on her feet for decontamination. Summoning his patience as he wanted nothing more than to tear the hatch open with his hands, he held still.
The computer chimed with completion. He scooped up his mate and nearly kicked open the door.
“You!” He pointed to the closest male. “Authorize me to command this vessel.”
“I cannot,” the male stammered.
Havik growled, recognizing the falsehood. “I do not have time for your petty lies. Give me the code or I will rip off your thumb.”
The male gulped and rushed to a pad embedded in the wall. Frantically, he pressed buttons. “Press your thumb.”
The device chimed, recognized Havik, and authorized him to full use of the ship. Excellent.
He turned to the male, still clutching his mate. “Leave, unless you want to leave Rolusdreus in the brig.” He refused to trust any male from his father’s clan. It was rotten to the core.
Fortunately, the ship was a standard design. He headed to Medical. Immediately, he placed his mate in the emergency cleansing stall. Carefully he removed her spectacles and set them aside, then he tore the flimsy fabric of her garments. The tattered remains fell to the floor.
Coughing under the deluge of water, Thalia leaned against the walls. The computer measured radiation levels, continuing to rinse away the particles until reaching a tolerable level.
Sanity returned, he removed his armor and joined her under the water.
“You’re always getting me in the shower,” she said.
“I do not hear a complaint.”
She laughed, dry and rasping, and leaned against him, pressing her face against his chest. “I didn’t leave the ship. I swear. They broke in and took my armor.”
The sound of falling water and the computer announcing the radiation level filled the silence. Gently, he applied a cleansing foam to her hair and skin, paying special attention to get between her fingers and toes.
“How bad am I fucked?” she finally asked.
“You will receive treatment. You will recover,” he said. There was no alternative. He lost a mate once and it simply hurt. He could not imagine how he would be destroyed if he lost the mate who had his heart.
When the shower ceased, he presented her with a large container of water. “Rinse your mouth,” he commanded.
Once she was clean to his satisfaction, he applied a topical gel to soothe her skin.
“I’m thirsty,” she said.
“You are dehydrated. Come.” With a hand on her shoulder, he steered her toward the stasis chamber. The chamber would provide her with fluids.
“What is that?” Thalia squirmed in his grip, twisting to break free.
“We need to reach the Judgment. The stasis chamber will keep you stable during the journey.”
“No! No, no, no. I’m not going back in one of those coffins.” She hit him with her ineffective fists. The feebleness of her blows alarmed him. Already she grew weak.
“There is no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.” The fight left her, and her body slumped, which alarmed him more than her burned skin and physical weakness.
With a hand on either shoulder, he crouched down to look her in the eyes. Red and swollen, he ignored the twinge he felt at seeing his favorite oasis blue discolored.
“Hear me, my mate,” he said. “My father may be dead, but the rot in the clan remains. We cannot trust the clan or any clan on the planet. We must seek aid from the Judgment. The journey is long. I cannot reverse radiation damage and every moment you are awake brings you closer to the point where the damage cannot be reversed.”
Her skin remained a distressing red, but she seemed to grow pale. “Fine. You’ll be there on the other side.”
Not a question but a certainty. That pleased him immensely.
“Nothing will keep me from you,” he said with a smile.
She laughed again, still distressingly dry and rasping. “You’re the scariest fucker I’ve ever seen, Danger B, and I love you so much.”
“I love you more than I can say. I’ll spend the rest of my days showing you.”
Her eyes, red and raw, gleamed. “You’ll find Mais? Help her? She wasn’t part of this. They ambushed her.”
“Yes. When your vitals have stabilized, I will assist Mais.” He also planned to give Stabs a belly scritch, if the kumakre was still around. “How did you find Stabs?”
“He found me. I was at the wrong damn entrance and there he was, like he’d been waiting ages for me.”
“I would have liked to see that.”
“Okay, let’s do this,” she said, climbing into the chamber.
Stasis chambers were designed for use by warriors, not medics. Once the automation process started, it could not be stopped. He followed the instructions as the machine prepared Thalia for stasis.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” she said as the chamber slid shut.
Chapter 24
Thalia
For the second time, she woke with a gasp. Blurry purple faces stood over her.
“I better not have been in there for three years.” Her voice rasped, followed by a cough that felt like shards of glass. Someone pressed an ice chip to her lips. She opened eagerly.
“My mate requires her spectacles,” a familiar voice said. The room came into focus when her glasses slid into place. “Better?”
Thalia nodded. “How long?”
“Twenty-eight days,” Havik said. He held her hand, carefully turning it over as if to inspect her. He ran a thumb over the fleshy part of her palm.
“So long. You said a week.”
“There were…complications.”
“Fuck. I have cancer.” Her mind leaped to a terrible outcome.
“No. You were placed in a regeneration tank to repair the radiation damage.”
“Move aside,” the doctor snapped, elbowing Havik.
“You,” Thalia said, recognizing the rude man, Doctor Kalen. “I want the nurse.”
“A common complaint. Now, I have an examination to complete and the faster you comply, the faster you can go home with your mate. How many fingers?” He held up three fingers.
“Three.”
Kalen worked through a list of questions, ascertaining that she was alert and oriented
to her surroundings. Her motor skills seemed normal.
“My mind’s not as fuzzy this time,” she said. The brain fog had taken ages to disperse and had been her biggest worry.
“Not to cast aspersions on the previous stasis chamber, but—no, I will cast aspersions. It was a hunk of junk and you’re lucky to have survived it at all. This one,” he pointed to Havik, “placed you in Mahdfel tech, used the correct chemicals, and did not exceed the time limit.”
Thalia suspected her clear head had more to do with the shorter timeframe than the quality of the tech, but she wasn’t going to argue. The faster she complied, the faster she got to go home.
Go home.
She really liked the sound of that.
“You will notice physical differences in your body,” Kalen said. Thalia immediately looked down, like she could see anything through the blanket and bedsheets. He continued, “That is to be expected with using a regeneration tank. Your hair fell out but has regrown. Old scarring is healed.”
She held up a hand, noticing the old burn mark on her wrist gone. She heard about the Mahdfel regen tanks but only in secondhand accounts from Doc. A patient was intubated and submerged in a vat of super goo—that was the highly technical term, super goo—until they could be safely removed.
A hand to her head confirmed that her hair was shorter, about shoulder length. She pulled the ends up for inspection, finding her original dirty blonde.
That was disappointing. Her mom told stories about when her grandmother had chemo, her hair regrew red instead of blonde.
“Wait, why do I still need my glasses? Shouldn’t the super goo fix my eyes?” she asked.
Kalen sighed, as if deeply aggravated to have his time wasted. “Regeneration tanks are not meant for Terrans. The super goo is formulated specifically for Mahdfel physiology. It enhanced your body’s ability to repair itself. Deficient eyesight is not an injury or a disease.”
“Not true,” she said, struggling to sit up straight. Her chest ached, and the muscles in her back felt stiff. “I happen to be nearsighted, which is not a disease, but some diseases do impair vision.”
Havik: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Sangrin Book 9) Page 22