In this particular instance, size did not matter.
Fen had Hair Grabber in a headlock in seconds, wrenching until the male gurgled and went limp. The Pirate’s dead eyes stared at Dee, no spark of his malicious soul within. She turned away, not willing to feel guilt or sorrow for him.
“Where’s Lanie?!” Fen demanded, charging toward Dee. Aggression from his fight still oozed off him, but she wasn’t afraid.
“The other one took her—they were trying to sneak us off the ship, to hide us so they could keep us without having to share,” her voice broke. “We fought them, but we had to split up.”
Fen’s eyes darkened, and his gaze flicked up to the concealed hatch. “You can hide or help guide me, but I can’t leave you to roam unprotected.”
There wasn’t even a choice; she took off back toward the hub. The corridor was silent except for Dee’s gasps as she struggled to keep her limbs working. The dead peacekeepers and Pirates lining the hall blurred together in her mind, their faces nothing but shadows so long as they didn’t look like Tugarth.
“Which way?” Fen asked. He’d stopped in front of the hub, at the intersection of four corridors. Dee had run to the far right, and Lanie had bolted into the middle left. She pointed and then sucked in a deep breath, fueling her muscles to match with his frantic pace.
There were no bodies in that corridor. It was odd, somehow, that those walls were clean of blood when so much of it ran through the rest of the ship. At least, she assumed it did. It was impossible, in that moment, to fathom a world without violence, a ship without dead bodies.
A scream echoed from farther up the passage, and Fen started running faster. Dee couldn’t keep up. She ran even when her lungs burned and her feet started to slap the ground, jarring her body with every slowing step, but she just couldn’t maintain his speed. “Go!” she gasped. “Help her!”
Fen darted a quick look back at her, his desperation plain, and then nodded. He slowed only long enough to pass her a knife, and then he was gone. It was then that she realized he’d been holding back so she could run with him, so she wouldn’t be left alone.
Without Fen there to help her feel safe, the quiet corridors took on a sinister edge. A Pirate could lurk behind every door, around every corner. But Dee didn’t stop running. Her body was just as exhausted as her mind, and both were ready to fall into shock, but she pushed herself forward; Lanie might need her, especially if Fen and Deep Voice were fighting.
She huffed down several more hallways, following the occasional screams and the masculine grunts of fighting. It sounded like Fen and Deep Voice were well-matched, which scared the shit out of Dee. If Fen lost, Lanie would be enslaved again; she had to get her friend away from there.
She slowed around the curve in the hallway, heart pounding loud enough to almost block the brutal battle sounds of the two warriors. She peeked, keeping most of her body behind the wall, and gasped.
Lanie was curled on the floor, her face bruised, crying. It looked like her arm was broken—she cradled it against her body, turning so it was protected by the wall. She was cornered in the alcove of a door, and the locking panel was ripped open as if she’d tried to hack her way in—no doubt her injured arm had prevented that avenue of escape.
Fen stood between Lanie and Deep Voice, but he was smeared with blood, and it flowed freely from several wounds. He looked dangerous and on the edge of losing everything, growling as he dodged hits and swiped at the Pirate with claws.
Deep Voice looked feral, too, but he appeared more intact. He had blood on him, but it wasn’t gushing like Fen’s, and he wasn’t panting like Fen. They might have been evenly matched, but Fen was protecting Lanie after having sprinted to find her…and this wasn’t a fair fight.
“I’ll keep her chained to my bed,” Deep Voice goaded, “and relish every scream. It will remind me of how I killed you to get her…she’ll be the perfect trophy.”
The knife in Dee’s hand was heavy as she debated what to do. Try to squeeze behind them and lock herself and Lanie in the room? Or help Fen? There was no perfect answer, because she couldn’t guarantee safety either way.
Lanie looked up and saw Dee; her pupils were blown with terror, and she was still cowering in the corner, but she didn’t beg for help or try to run—she turned to watch Fen. Her brakka. One of the males she’d lifebonded with.
If anyone deserved love, it was Lanie. The woman sacrificed everything for everyone else, and her heart was golden. Dee couldn’t imagine dragging her friend away from the male she loved, knowing it meant he would probably die giving them time to escape.
She hefted the blade, testing the balance. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t a butter knife, either. She turned her attention the grappling males and eased herself around the corner, crouched low while bringing her hand up. Fen swung his elbow up and landed a hit on Deep Voice’s cheek, a glancing blow that separated their bodies—by just inches—for a moment.
A perfect moment.
She exhaled and threw, her aim true.
Fen staggered back, surprised, when Deep Voice shouted and dropped to his knees while clutching his chest. The blade was completely embedded in the fleshy junction of his arm and chest; it wasn’t a fatal wound, but the Pirate slumped to his side, grimacing.
Fen—the idiot—turned and sprinted for Lanie without finishing off the Pirate. He checked her over, gently inspecting her wounds and then kissing her when she whimpered and winced. Lifebonded males were a funny mix of sweet and stupid. Obviously, Lanie was Fen’s first concern, even over his own safety.
While they were distracted, Deep Voice sat up and pulled the knife from his shoulder. The gush of blood was horrific, but the look of intent in his eyes as he gripped the handle was worse. Dee dashed forward, screaming a warning, but the asswipe managed to throw the damn thing right at Fen’s back.
At her warning, Fen grabbed Lanie and threw them both to the side. Fortunately, neither were harmed. Unfortunately, that gave Deep Voice plenty of time to grab Dee and bolt towards freedom.
She screamed and clawed at her captor, but her nails broke on his furry skin. He squeezed until her lungs burned, empty and deflated, and she gasped for air. Every bounce on his bulky shoulder was another second without breathing, another step closer to passing out.
She heard Lanie shout her name, followed by a roar that sounded bestial, but she couldn’t squeeze out words, or call for help.
Deep Voice ran to an escape pod at the very end of the corridor, right next to another sealed emergency door, and slammed his hand on the panel. It slid open to reveal a transpo instead of a pod—which explained how the Pirates had gotten onboard. Tricky bastards had torn away the little escape vessels, parked their asses into the empty spots, and had walked right onto the ship. Black dots hazed Dee’s vision as she was tossed onto the floor. The last thing she saw was her Viking running toward her from too far away, face enraged, as the panel slid shut.
Chapter 9
Dee came awake with her mouth gaping, silently screaming. Her body throbbed with pins and needles that dug deep into her flesh, burrowing until even her bones were chewed to the marrow. She choked, gagging, and struggled to turn and escape—
“Hold still!” a male growled as he dragged her back by her hair.
Her eyes wouldn’t work; she couldn’t see light or dark, not even a hint of shadow, and her thoughts were hazy. Instinct ruled, moving her body without real rhyme or reason, and she flailed against the pain and confusion.
A sharp, immediate, agony flared in her jaw just before the sound of a slap. The jolt threw her sideways. Dee groaned, her mind whirling as she struggled to make sense of what was happening.
Salty, liquid copper filled her mouth and she spat to clear the taste. Her cheek throbbed with enough intensity to drown out the rest of her pain. Her body faded. The darkness faded. Her fear even faded.
Where was she?
“Now that you’re awake, you can scrub yourself,” the male said. “I can�
�t stand to touch you.” She knew that gurgles-on-gravel voice…it was deep, and held an edge of cruelty. Something small and hard clattered on the ground next to her, and she flinched.
Another second of shock bled into remembrance. Deep Voice. Fen. The fight.
…and now she was here…which meant…
Sobs welled in her throat, but she swallowed them back. If her time with Kinnip had taught her anything, it was that silence led to less pain. Be invisible, she told herself. Survive. Tugarth would search for her—he wouldn’t give up. Hell, the entire crew of Peacekeepers were probably going to help find her; all the good guys were gung-ho about earning themselves a Charm. They would come. He would come.
But she couldn’t just sit there and wait around. Surviving was going to take more than docile obedience. She needed to know what she was up against, and then she needed a plan.
Hivemind was out of the question; she couldn’t risk another aneurism unless she was already on the brink of death. Why tempt fate? And besides, she didn’t have information they could use to help, so better to bide her time.
Focus. She needed to focus.
Dee blinked furiously, but there was only darkness. Either she was blind or Deep Voice was using her human weakness against her; she knew now that all three breeds of Peacekeeper—and Pirate—could do things humans couldn’t. Smell with incredible acuity, from incredible distances. Hear vibrations above and beyond the capabilities of the fiercest predators known to man. And their sight…well. The dark was not an obstacle. The brutes really were superior in many ways, though it pained her to admit it even to herself.
Dee sighed and gave up on trying to see, guessing that he’d literally decided to keep her in the dark. Her other senses slowly came back online, and she realized she was freezing. Not just cold, but numb. Water was sluicing down onto her in thin trickles and had to be the source of the pins-and-needles that had awoken her; it felt like sleet. Especially since she was naked and totally exposed. No doubt she’d be tinged blue if she could see herself.
Thankfully, she didn’t feel violated, so that was one concern she could set aside for the moment. She’d recover her modesty and dignity at a later date. Maybe. Hopefully.
Dee reached out blindly, trying to feel where she was—it wasn’t a shower stall or the hurricane tubes from the ship. She was in a tub of some kind. Not a bathtub, but cylindrical tub meant to store liquid…and it was filling with icy water.
“No,” she muttered, trying to get to her feet. “No, no, no!” She scrambled to her knees, sloshing water everywhere, and her leg nudged whatever had been dropped into the tub with her. She clawed at the sides as she tried to climb out of the container, but it was useless.
The sides were smooth metal and the damn thing was taller than she could reach even while jumping. Her frantic movements kicked the little object on the floor into the side of the tub, where it plunked, reverberating as if inside a steel drum. Irritated, she reached down and picked the thing up.
It was soft. Well, softish. And it smelled clean…like pungent lemon-vinegar.
Soap?
Deep Voice and Hair Grabber had both mentioned that she and Lanie smelled. At the time, she just thought they were being assholes. Now…she wasn’t so sure. Hanging out around a bunch of Peacekeepers had normalized a lot of things that would’ve previously freaked her out. For instance, group lovin’ was totally normal. The Lu’O made ménage look sweet instead of scary. Likewise, an Abbaleer being able to pick up a mountain with one arm wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Freaky was par for the course.
It was plausible Deep Voice and Hair Grabber smelled something unusual on Dee and Lanie. Their comments made it sound like Lanie and Dee had rolled around in a sty full of manure and week-old vomit. Thankfully, she couldn’t smell whatever they did, even though she took a cautious sniff of her armpit. It wasn’t B.O., not that she’d really believed that was possible. Even when enslaved, without access to regular baths, the Pirates hadn’t been so repulsed.
The only new change to both women was lifebonding.
Perhaps there was a biological tool similar to Tugarth’s pheromones, one that protected Charms after lifebonding? They did bite each other and exchange blood on top of exchanging copious amounts of other fluids…
But no. That didn’t make any sense. Surely one of the other Peacekeepers would have mentioned it if Lanie and Dee stank that badly?
She frowned, still holding the soap and shivering her ass off. She decided not to scrub herself clean; she dropped the soap and listened to it plunk as it hit the water pooling on the floor. She’d rather take a beating for disobeying than wash away whatever stinky miracle was protecting her from the Pirate.
She stood there, miserable, for what seemed like forever. She continued to blink rapidly, hoping her vision would return, but it didn’t. She might as well have been a doorknob for all the good her senses did—not for a second did she anticipate Deep Voice scooping her up. No footsteps, no breathing, no whisper of clothes as he crept closer. Just silence and inky darkness...which explained the shrill scream she couldn’t bite back when his thick hands grabbed her.
It felt like he was leaning over the edge of the vat he’d stashed her in, and she squealed when he hauled her over the lip; the edge caught her ribs, probably bruising her bruises. She went limp with pain, and he dropped her to the floor—she couldn’t see how far she fell, but it was enough to knock the wind from her sails.
Deep Voice kicked her leg. “No more screeching,” he warned.
Whimpers leaked free, but Dee didn’t scream again despite the cruel fingers he clenched into her arm as he dragged her through the darkness. She managed to get her feet under her and stumbled like a newborn colt; his hands squeezed harder, punishingly, until she thought her arms would simply pop off.
She realized she was bordering on hysteria when that thought seemed funny. Just, pop! And then the pain would be gone. No more arm, but what did she really use that one for anyway? In the grand scheme, one little arm wasn’t worth all that much. Especially if it meant Deep Voice wouldn’t be touching her anymore.
“You still stink,” he grumbled, shoving her down without warning. Something soft cushioned her fall, but being knocked off-kilter like that still scared her—she was already so vulnerable. Being prone, naked, and blind brought back her most visceral fears. “I’ll just have to hold my breath until it fades.”
And then he was on top of her, providing up close and personal proof that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. They were both naked and he was on top of her. He was going to rape her, and he was complaining about the way she smelled.
Her fear mixed with a hint of righteous anger. She was a survivor, damn it. She’d died and even that hadn’t kept her down. Neither would being kidnapped, choked, and then tossed in ice water. And rape? No—because it wasn’t going to happen.
Deep Voice dropped his full weight on her upper body so she couldn’t squirm and then reached down with one hand to pry her legs apart; even in the dark, she could tell his neck was tilted and vulnerable.
His scream as her teeth sank in was satisfying, as was the vulgar taste of his blood seeping onto her tongue. She bit harder, gnashing enough to make him panic. His hands abandoned her thighs and went around her throat—but that only made her clamp down harder.
He went still above her, hands circling her throat, and began keening.
They were at an impasse.
A sound interrupted the moment, echoing through the darkness with deafening intensity, as if the metal walls of the Pirate’s ship were being beaten down with Thor’s hammer. Above her, Deep Voice tensed even more.
Suddenly, light pierced the darkness.
Dee kept her teeth clenched but curled up her lip as her face scrunched. It was so bright. How long had she been in the dark?
The sound of big bodies clomping into the room made her shiver. More adrenaline was pumping through her veins than blood. Deep Voice’s hands on her throat pulsed, as if
he were afraid. Who the hell had barged in?
“What do we have here?” an all too familiar voice said. Dee wanted to shove her kidnapper away and run from the bigger threat. Instead, she froze like all prey do when faced with a predator; her heart and lungs seized and her muscles tightened in preparation for fight or flight. Realistically, though, she knew it was too late to run and hide. Dying on the spot seemed a better idea. Spontaneous combustion would be delightful.
Kinnip knelt beside her, at the perfect height for her to squint up at him. He looked just the same; muscle upon muscle, all wrapped in butter-soft suede and topped with a beautifully masculine face. She wanted to vomit.
He looked her over and then peered at where she was gnawing on Deep Voice’s throat. His smile was mean and satisfied. “Let him go, Gurruulat.” He purred the word, as if it were an endearment and not a name that would forever haunt her nightmares.
Yet she obeyed. Her jaw ached as she released Deep Voice, and his blood dribbled past her lips and down her chin. She lay motionless as he rolled away, not even making an effort to cover her nakedness. The prey part of her was running on instinct, insisting that if she was really, really still, he would forget about her.
“Kill him,” Kinnip commanded. He didn’t take his eyes off Dee, but his minions didn’t hesitate to obey.
Deep Voice tried to fight, but the Pirates around Kinnip all drew their weapons. He kicked and punched, but shots rang out until he was limp and moaning, a defeated and mushy mess of meat—meat that just so happened to retain a heartbeat.
Dee closed her sore, straining eyes against the bright light shining down on the brutal scene, but her ears worked perfectly. Deep Voice’s pained, rattling breaths were loud. She didn’t feel bad for the asshole, but she turned her face away from him and the gore. Yet there was no escaping the gurgle of his last inhale, where he choked and sputtered before falling silent.
Deegan's Rescue: Survivors of Paradise Book 2 Page 12