“You’re looking at my mother’s cousins,” Reya stated bluntly. “Ceri and Rani.”
“But they look to be... frozen?”
“Aye. They are. Apparently they were caught in a snap-freeze while running from bounty hunters in the Outlaw Sector. This image was taken by the pack leader right before the cave-in. The image has only just come to light. Abra has one of them aboard his ship now.”
“Her body?” Maverk winced in sympathy. “Ah, lass, I’m so sorry.”
Reya looked at him steadily. “She’s alive.”
“What?”
“Somehow, we don’t know why or how, the ice melted and Ceri is alive.”
“Ceri?”
“The blonde. The dark-haired one, Rani, is missing.”
“She escaped somehow?”
“Nay. The ice was cut and her body taken. Only Ceri was left there.”
Maverk scratched his head. “So how did Abra end up with Ceri?”
“He got the photo image and co-ordinates through another bounty hunter. The original hunter died and left this little legacy.” There was that cutting edge to her cold voice. “But Abra is keeping her drugged since she awoke yesterday for fear she’ll fight them in the ship. He doesn’t want to hurt her... I think.”
“He wouldn’t be game to. I’d tear him apart personally.” Maverk looked searchingly at her. “Lass, we can leave right now to pick her up.”
“They’re six weeks away.”
“I can have us there in four weeks. Sonja fitted a little extra something to our trade ship engines. I know Darvk would let us borrow it.”
“’Tis no need, I can go with Sabra in the fleet craft.”
“Reya, this survivor is your relative and a Reeka. That makes her family and friend to we Daamens.” Twining a long, silky lock of her hair around his finger, Maverk tilted her head back so he could rest his forehead against hers. Gazing directly into her eyes, he said softly, “Shanay and I will accompany you on this journey.”
“Shanay?”
“Shanay is a warrior and a leader-in-training. ’Tis time she sees some of the other responsibilities, aye?”
Reya smiled slightly. “Brawn and brains, pretty boy. You never cease to surprise me.”
His grin was totally wicked. “Wait until our daughter is in bed, then I’ll show you some other surprises.”
“You are bad.”
“You have no idea.”
~ * ~
Inner Sanctum of the Outlaw Sector
Overlord’s Fortress
The warrior paced in the glass-walled box. Now and again she ltim again aunched herself at the walls, only to rebound back. Her eyes glittered with a feral light, and her wild mane of hair half covered her face. Several times she pushed it back over her shoulders impatiently. Finally she ripped a piece of rawhide lacing from her bodice and tied it back.
From this Fredrico deduced that she wasn’t entirely insane. Sitting on the table, booted feet swinging, he sipped from the mug of hot una and watched her resume pacing.
“Phemar is coming,” Veknor announced as he entered the chamber.
Fredrico grunted.
“He’s planning on breaking through her insanity,” Veknor continued.
“I don’t think she’s that insane,” Fredrico replied.
“No?” Veknor raised his brows as she threw herself once again at the glass wall. “She’s not exactly rational, to my way of thinking.”
Fredrico took another sip of hot una. Oh, the warrior wasn’t rational, there was no doubt about that, but nor was she completely insane. Now and again he saw a flare of something in her eyes, almost recognition, but it was quickly blurred by the orange smoke that slid across her irises.
At that moment Phemar entered the chamber, the stench of rotting meat permeating him. Veknor took a small step back and breathed a little shallower. Fredrico grinned at him behind the dark mystic’s back.
Phemar stood in front of the walled box and the Reeka went berserk, snarling and clawing at the glass.
“I don’t think she likes him.” Fredrico took another sip.
“You’re full of predictions this morning.” Veknor leaned back against the table and crossed his ankles as he studied the warrior.
Phemar laid one rotting hand against the glass directly over where hers lay on the other side and she recoiled violently, hissing, her eyes narrowed to slits of hate.
“And not very happy to be back,” Veknor murmured.
Fredrico couldn’t blame her. The slimy touch of Phemar wasn’t to everyone’s taste, including himself, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Nor could lost souls.
Dark shadows flittered through the door and rose to linger at the ceiling, casting darkness over one wall. Calmly drinking his una, Fredrico wondered how Phemar was going to subdue the warrior.
“Fredrico, Veknor.” Phemar partly turned towards them, his face hidden by the folds of his hood. “I need you.”
Placing the cup on the table, Fredrico slid off and walked to Phemar’s side. The warrior glanced from him to Veknor who ranged up on Phemar’s other side, then back to Phemar.
“What do you need us to do?” Veknor queried.
“Catch her,” Phemar said, and with one swoop of his hand the glass wall shattered.
The Reeka lunged forward and Fredrico only had time to yell a startled swear word before he threw himself in her pathway.
Grappling her around the waist, he felt the full force of her knee slam up into his abdomen, knocking the breath from him. Unprepared for the strength her insanity gave her, he didn’t have time to conjure up his own darkness. He fell, winded, and dimly heard Veknor fighting with her. Glass tinkled, something crashed, and there was the sound of Veknor’s cursing.
“Do not use your powers!” Phemar warned them.
p>
Rolling to his feet, Fredrico was just in time to see Veknor being lifted off his feet by two hands fisted in his billowing shirt. The Reeka stood tall, lifting the ebony space pirate with ease. His feet swung off the ground. She stood a full head taller than him, half a head taller than Fredrico.
She was strong, she was tall, she was deadly, and she was enraged.
For a split second Fredrico could appreciate her in all her wild beauty. The thick hair, so dark a red as to be almost black, swirled down her back. Her green eyes glittered with rage and the feminine muscles in her legs and arms were clearly visible.
A true Reeka warrior woman.
An insane Reeka warrior woman.
An insane Reeka warrior woman with a touch of hellish strength.
She didn’t even grunt as she hoisted Veknor up and threw him over the table. The ebony pirate disappeared over the other side with a curse.
Fredrico barrelled forward again, this time watching her carefully but the warrior was focused on Phemar. Moving with a slithering grace, she circled him.
The dark mystic watched her, the dull gleam of his eyes shining briefly from the darkness of his hood.
Hands outstretched, she lunged and would have succeeded in grabbing him by the throat if Fredrico hadn’t dived at her, catching her full force behind the knees to send her sprawling onto the stone floor.
Without missing a beat she twisted, but Veknor was on top of her before she could complete it. Even with two of them, they grappled to hold her down.
“Guards!” Fredrico yelled. “Bloody get in here!”
Four guards pushed through the doorway, no surprise on their faces at what they saw. Nothing surprised those who lived in The Overlord’s fortress.
Two of them immediately helped pin her down.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Veknor snarled up at Phemar.
“Her reflexes haven’t diminished with time. I am pleased.” Phemar gestured to one of the standing guards. “Are they here yet?”
“Yes.” He retreated and returned with an armful of thick chains.
Fredrico knew immediately what was going to happen. Phemar crouched and reached for
the warrior’s hair but Fredrico waylaid him, grabbing a silken fistful and jerking her head upright.
Somehow the thought of Phemar’s rotting flesh sliding through her hair just wasn’t... right.
One of the guards snapped the thick collar around her throat and heavy cuffs snapped around her wrists and ankles.
“Get her up,” Phemar ordered.
When the men stood up the warrior exploded into action. With an almost inhuman speed she was on her feet and only the chains being held by the four guards kept her from lunging at Phemar once again.
She fought the guards and sweat poured down their faces as they fought back to keep their grips on the chains, keeping the tension that prevented her from nearing any one of them.
Breathing heavily, Fredrico watched as they dragged her from the chamber. Not wanting to watch but knowing he had to, he followed them through the corridor to another cell where they dragged the struggling Reeka and chained her to the wall.
Holding the tenlesding thsion of the chains, they looked around for further instructions.
Phemar merely looked at them, and silently cursing the dark mystic, Fredrico strode forward and directed them when to let go and run.
As soon as the tension was released she ran at them, snarling, and only the chains snapping taut to wrench her back prevented serious damage to the guards.
Fredrico sent them out and then stood and gazed broodingly at the Reeka. She leaned against the chains, fighting them, and suddenly she seemed to realize that it was hopeless. Arms by her side, the chains gripped in her fists, she stood with legs slightly apart. Her breasts heaved with every deep breath she sucked in and she held her head high.
“There’s no point fighting the chains,” Fredrico said abruptly. “You can’t get free.”
Her eyes burned with the hellish orange vapour that floated across her irises. Lifting her arms, she snapped the chains taut to her and simply looked at him.
“I know.” And he did. “If you get free, you’ll kill us all. I can’t blame you.”
For a few seconds they simply stood and looked at each other, she glaring, he assessingly. Finally he left the cell to find out what Phemar had planned for her. He felt her burning gaze on his back long after the cell door clanged shut behind him.
Phemar was in the chamber they’d just left. Veknor wasn’t looking impressed.
“You could give us forewarning next time.” Fredrico strode into the chamber.
Phemar shrugged. “It’s a good test of all your reflexes.”
“I am not yours to test.”
Phemar laughed wetly.
Times like this reminded Fredrico that he hated the dark mystic’s guts.
“What are you going to do with her?” Veknor asked.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with that,” Phemar rasped, a spot of blood flying from the depths of his hood to land on the floor. “Just do what I tell you, when I tell you.” He turned away. “This woman is important to all our futures.”
Fredrico looked grimly at Veknor, who shrugged. Dark days were coming and yes, the Reeka was important, but he still wasn’t sure how.
He guessed he’d soon find out...
~ * ~
Bounty Hunters’ Ship
Ceri watched from beneath lowered eyelids as the hunter entered the cabin. Abra, she’d heard him called. Taller than the average man, he was stocky in build. His face was harsh, lines driven deep by the life he led. His black mohawk was clipped close to his skull and fell down his back almost to his waist in a thick plait. Several strands of silver threaded through it, though she guessed he wouldn’t be much over forty years of age. He moved almost silently, alert to his surroundings even in the safety of his own ship.
Mracan. The bounty hunter was a Mracan. Not many of them wandered from their home planet. She wondered what had made this particular hunter leave family and hearth to hunt in a pack.
It didn’t matter. What did matter was the fact that she was a wanted outlaw on board a bounty hunters’ ship. What was weird was that she was in a bed instead of a cell or lying on a floor injured and bleeding from numehe ng fromrous rapes and beatings.
Physically she was still intact, that much she managed to assess upon awakening again. She was in one piece and wearing a shirt which fitted tightly across her breasts, and a pair of panties. Thank the stars for small mercies.
Covertly she watched from beneath the fringes of her lashes as the hunter approached the bed. Keeping her breathing slow and even, she feigned sleep.
“You don’t fool me, Ceri,” Abra drawled.
Well hell, if he already knew her name and that she was awake, why bother playing dead? Ceri lunged up, hands reaching out to grapple him, only to fall straight out of the bunk onto the floor.
Lying on the floor with those big boots planted firmly on the tiles in front of her nose wasn’t quite how she’d planned to handle the matter. The cabin dipped sickeningly in front of her eyes as she pushed upright onto her elbows. Disregarding the queasiness roiling through her belly, Ceri gritted her teeth and tried to lunge upright.
Her body wouldn’t co-operate. Instead, she barely made it to her knees before she tipped forward to land against hard, muscled thighs. Instinctively she gripped the tough material of the hunter’s pants and hung on.
“Unless you’re trying to strip my pants off me,” Abra growled, “I suggest you let go and stop being bloody stupid.”
A muscle jumped in her jaw as she tightened her hold on the material and tried to hoist herself up.
The pants started to give and she could feel the sudden slide downward of them.
“Bloody hell.” Two hands grabbed under her arms and dragged her upright, and she found herself leaning weakly against the hunter’s stocky body as he supported her.
Embarrassment and fury swept through her when her head wouldn’t stop spinning and her knees started to buckle. Sagging fully against the hunter, she felt him brace himself against her weight, his hands settling at her waist.
God, a warrior being supported by a hunter. If Rani saw her, she’d laugh her arse off.
Rani. Where was she? Bracing her hands on the hunter’s shoulders, Ceri pushed back and looked down at him. Being a head taller gave her an advantage but he didn’t seem overly impressed. His expression was dour, his dark eyes wary.
“You quite finished being strong and mighty?” Abra asked harshly.
“Why?” she croaked back, then cleared her throat. “You got other plans for me, hunter?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “Namely getting you back to your people in one piece.”
“My people? One piece?” Fisting her hand in his shirt front, she lowered her face until their noses almost touched. Glaring down at him, she said between clenched teeth, “I won’t lead you back to my people, hunter.”
“Don’t have to. I already know where they are.” His lips twisted a little in a mocking smile and she saw the faint scar puckering at the corner of his eye.
Then it was time he died right now. She might be dizzy and weak, but it only took one punch to the throat to crush the air pipe. Ceri released the front of Abra’s shirt and aimed straight for his Adam’s apple.
Her movements were so off the mark and clumsy that he didn’t have to move very fast to avoid the hit and simply shove her backwards. Ceri fell onto the bunk, cursing. Abra grabbed her legs and und r legs nceremoniously swung her full length onto the bunk.
Her stomach lurched and she had to grit her teeth against the nausea that threatened to overcome her. When she blinked and refocused, he was standing close to the bottom of the bunk, a frown on his face and his arms crossed across his chest. With his legs braced apart, he made a forbidding figure.
Ceri wasn’t impressed. She’d faced down scarier men and lived to tell the tale. If she could only get over this cursed weakness, she could snuff him out.
“Get me a sword,” she snarled, “And I’ll cut your heart out.”
“No doubt.” Abra was as
unimpressed as she. “However, I don’t have the patience to fart around. These are the facts. You and your sister warrior were frozen in ice for years. Your sister is missing, you were still there. You thawed out in our freezer. Your leader, Reya, is coming for you. End of story.” He crossed over to the viscomm in the wall. “And because I know you won’t believe a word I say, here’s some history for you and a word from Reya herself.”
“Reya? Reya’s a child.”
“Reya’s a married woman with a child,” Abra said brusquely, touching the screen. “Just watch this. No doubt you still won’t believe, but it’s the best I can do.”
The viscomm flared to life and without a backward glance, Abra strode from the cabin.
“How the hell did she wake up so soon?” someone demanded from the corridor.
“Had to,” came Abra’s reply. “It was either that or starve her to death.”
“You should have waited for one of us to accompany you.”
“She’s weak as a lykitten. No threat right now.”
“Is it wise to leave her unobserved?”
“She’s about to watch a bit of history.” Abra’s voice faded down the corridor.
He was lying. The bastard hunter was playing with her, he— Ceri was diverted by the scene playing out on the viscomm screen.
It looked like a court of some kind, a meeting of many people. A couple she recognized and she pushed herself up weakly into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall. The black-robed, grim-faced man she’d recognize anywhere. Meekta, leader of the Intergalactic Peace Ship Council.
She stiffened suddenly when a door opened and a group of Reeka warrior women walked into the big room. She knew them—the warrior with the red/gold curls, the younger one with the hair like old gold coins and eyes the same colour as her own. Tenia and Reya, the daughters of Karana. Dana, their hot-headed cousin. Connie... so many others she hadn’t seen for a couple of weeks. Tenia she hadn’t seen for a couple of years... But wait. Ceri squinted and then her eyes widened.
These weren’t the young teenagers she remembered. Reya and Tenia looked older, their curves filled out, their eyes harder. Reya’s held a coldness she didn’t remember ever being there and Tenia looked worried. Gone were the carefree young girls she remembered.
Shattered Soul Page 6