They’d given me the creeps.
The crowd shuffled forward. I stared round the cavernous room but too many people and aliens milled about for me to work out whether my absence had been noted.
Wiping my damp palms over my flight pants, I turned back to my young companion. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, I mean, check this bloke out. He says he’s some kind of trader, not a soldier. As soon as we reach the jump point, we can bargain with a ship to take us through the Vortex.”
“We have no money,” Margaret pointed out. Her eyes narrowed. “What do we use for payment?”
My mouth compressed and my gaze slid from hers. I’d bartered the ‘fork’ thing Ana had given me as a gift before she left, to secure passage for both of us as far as the Azzirt Vortex. After that? Well, I’d do what I had to if it meant we’d get home.
Hell, hadn’t I awakened the Darkons? Surely sex with one more stranger shouldn’t prove to be a problem for me. Hot tears burnt my eyes and my mouth worked while I fought the denial clamouring in my mind and soul.
“You don’t really want to leave them.”
Damn it, out of the mouth of babes.
I planted my hands on my hips and said, “Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, it’s almost our turn to board. Let’s move closer.”
“Go if you want to, but I can’t leave here. Not until I find my sister.” Margaret took my hand in hers. “I would never have survived this long, if you hadn’t been so kind to me. You remind me so much of mum and Carly.”
Twin tears slid down her thin cheeks. I pretended not to notice when she wiped her sleeve under her nose. A Jurian clutching at least five bags of luggage staggered into the shuttle. Three more passengers then it would be our turn to board. I shivered as cold sweat chilled my spine. My chest felt so tight I thought my heart would shatter into so many tiny pieces it would never mend.
“We have to go.” The words came out hoarse and strained as if dug from the bottom of my flight boots.
Margaret shook her head, her chin jutting mulishly. She dropped my hand. “I spent the last of my inheritance to bribe some couple to help me pose as their daughter to leave Earth. I have to see my sister one more time. She’s all I have left of my family. You know don’t you, that I’m dying.” It wasn’t a question.
Shaken, I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Not quite, although I suspected you’d been seriously ill.”
“So you see, I can’t leave, not when I’ve come so far.”
Muttering a swear word under my breath I grabbed her hand and whirled round, about to march away from the shuttle.
“Halt.”
I kept walking.
Pain slammed into my back. I pitched forward, hit the ground hard but at the last minute I broke my face-first fall with my hands. Scrabbling about on the concrete, I shook my head to clear the ringing in my ears, biting down on the fire searing into my skin before I pushed onto my hands and knees. Four pairs of scuffed military-style boots ringed my vision. When I raised my head, I stared into the eye of the weapon aimed inches from my nose. Before I could draw another breath, rough hands grabbed my arm, hauled me to my feet, man-handled me forward. I craned my neck and saw Margaret being slung over a soldier’s shoulder and carted, screaming, towards the shuttle. The little hooded bloke, arms folded, stood beside the door like the devil at the entrance to hell.
Oh fuck.
From somewhere inside me, rage built. It roared: gathered momentum, stampeded through my body. My panic fled, leaving only deadly intent.
I turned towards my captor. His grip loosened. I pulled free. Remembering Quain, I lashed out. My boot connected with a sickening crack against his kneecap. He grunted, reeled. Using my body weight, I rammed my shoulder into his chest. Whirled round in a full circle then punched my fist up under his chin.
And down he went.
As if god had gifted me with the speed of champions, I sprinted to the shuttle, pile-driving into the soldier carrying Margaret. In a flurry of bodies and flailing limbs we tumbled to the ground. I shrieked to Margaret to get out of the way and landed a punch in the guard’s ribs. He connected with my face and I saw stars. I kicked, clawed, used my elbows, my feet and we rolled together over the ground until I lost track of which way was up and down.
Suddenly the guard was plucked off me and knocked to the ground. Quain reached down, picked him up and smashed his fist into his face again. And again.
I whispered one word. “Quain.”
Quain released his victim and bounded to my side. Behind him, the man sagged like a sack of wet cement to the floor. Strong arms surrounded me, enfolded me in an embrace that squished all the air from my lungs and Quain rumbled near my ear, “I should beat you.”
“Ugg.” The only word I could manage squeezed past my cramped ribs.
His clutch loosened and I downed air as if I was a drunkard on his first bender of the week. The latent fury he felt evident by the set expression of his face, the squareness of his jaw.
“Is she damaged?”
Hands grasped my waist, pulling me from Quain’s grip, turning me to face Jerrell. His normally glowing eyes were black and depthless as he stared down at me. No hint of smile in the straight line of his mouth. He was all sternness, his inner turmoil rolling off him in waves. If he hadn’t been holding me, I’m sure it would have blasted me several feet backwards.
And suddenly, I howled.
Jerrell sucked in a breath and his features softened, the ends of his mouth curling into a tender smile. He wiped away my tears, his fingers trembling when they touched my skin.
Light dawned and the aches and pains of my bruised body ebbed. “You were scared I was hurt,” I said while my head whirled with the ramifications of this realisation.
“Of course; for are you not my mate, my woman?” Jerrell asked and I heard the quaver of fear lingering in his soft tones.
“And Quain, what about you?” I spun round, searched that harsh face, holding his glance with mine.
He didn’t evade me. He stood, shoulders back, hands fisted at his sides, his chin up, eyes steady. Ever a soldier, but more. A warrior, because he said, “You have my heart.”
And suddenly, all I wanted to do was fling my head back and shriek out my happiness, maybe even perform a crazy happy dance, right here and now. But I think my wide grin must have given me away for twin flames of gold flared to life in Quain’s eyes and his shoulders rounded. Just a little. It was enough.
I’d found what I’d been missing in my life.
“Where’s Margaret?” Smiling, I looked about, feeling smug as the awed crowd flinched from my gaze.
“Here I am.” Margaret stood a few feet away, wringing her hands together.
I said, “Let’s find that sister of yours.”
She flung herself into my arms and I hugged her back. Over the top of her head, I grinned at Quain and Jerrell. “Lead the way, guys. Oh, and by the way, you can call me, Fran.”
“We will head to the Mirva System. You will remain with the other females while Jerrell and I continue the fight against the Elites.” Quain stared down his nose at me.
I disentangled myself from Margaret and popped a kiss on his chin. “Perfect. We’ll make sure Margaret and the others are safe, then join the resistance. My place is by your sides, both of you that is, always.”
Quain’s jaw dropped, and laughing, I twirled round to catch sight of Jerrell’s grin. He winked at me. I added, “Don’t worry, Margaret, your sister will be first up on our agenda.”
I danced round, herded them together and placing a hand on the Darkons’ backs, pushed. “Come on you guys, keep up.”
Margaret giggled and linked her arm through mine.
Unseen by the others, I flexed my sore knuckles. Yeah, that’s me—warrior woman.
Hell yeah.
My smile as bright as a supernova, I followed my men out of the departure bay.
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM ESCAPE PUBLISHING…
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Seeking redemption from a mission gone terribly wrong, Captain Alana Knight volunteers to aid a dangerous operation to transport colonists between Earth and alien traders. But on board the spaceship, she learns of a galactic war raging for power. A power that can be transformed into a terrible weapon.
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ISBN: 9780857990471
Title: AWAKENING THE WARRIORS
Copyright © 2013 by S.E. Gilchrist
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Awakening The Warriors Page 5