by Anna Carven
“Move!” Torin’s impatience spilled over.
Seph let go of him and drifted toward the Veronians, reaching for Kvorae’s hand. Kvorae linked arms with Parrus, as they formed a purple and tan Veronian-human chain. “Let’s go. Torin, give me a push.”
All traces of her fear were gone. Her jaw was set in a strong, determined line. Her movements were swift, decisive.
Somehow, she had swallowed down her fear and tucked it away. Pride and admiration surged inside him as she looked at him with clear eyes and nodded.
There’s no time. Let’s do this.
Torin grabbed her by the waist and gave her an almighty push, sending her flying into the distance with the two Veronians trailing after her.
Be safe.
Another dull boom shook the chambers.
Torin hit the floor and stuck his claws through the metal to anchor himself. Then he aimed his plasma gun at the makeshift barricade and fired, turning the corridor into a sea of blue fire, ash, and smoke.
Chapter Twenty
Blam! Blamblam! The plasma blasts rang in her ears as Seph took cover behind a plush burgundy sofa with the two Veronians. Parrus and Kvorae floated on either side of her, holding her down as they anchored themselves to the legs of the seat with their tails.
Thankfully, this particular piece was actually fused to the floor. This Relahek character was obviously a hoarder; he’d collected so much crap that they were forced to bat away a constant stream of moving pieces. Even his clothes were floating around. The sumptuous garments were constructed from all manner of fine embroidered fabric. One of them—a blue shirt of some sort—brushed across her face, blocking her vision. Seph pulled it away, amazed that the material felt a thousand times softer than silk against the skin of her cheek.
Shame all of this is probably going to get wrecked. She recognized styles from different civilizations—Ordoon, Avein, Soldar… Museums and private collectors on Earth would pay millions of credits for this stuff. Where the hell does Relahek get his money from? He was obviously extremely wealthy. That explained how he could hide out here and placate an entire ship of fierce Bartharran pirates.
The right amount of money could buy anything.
Just like on Earth, really.
“Seph, come!” Torin summoned her from the next room.
Seph grabbed both Veronians by the hand. “Let’s kick off this thing to give ourselves some momentum. Ready?”
They pulled themselves over the top of the sofa and kicked hard against its back.
“Ooof!” Seph’s gasp was half exhilaration, half terror as she shot through the air. She would never, ever get used to the feeling of zero-G. Torin moved through the air so quickly, so gracefully, like a fish darting through water. In comparison, she constantly felt like she didn’t really know what she was doing. Being in Zero-G made her feel ungainly and clumsy.
But she could move. That was all that mattered.
Keep moving. Don’t ever stop.
If she hesitated for just a split-second, the stupid fear would take hold again, and everything would become impossible. Torin’s quiet words back there had been magic.
Pretend you’re lying in bed with me. We are on Earth.
The sheer beauty of that imagery almost brought tears to her eyes.
Seph decided there and then that she was definitely a land creature. How she missed Earth; how she yearned to feel the warm sun on her face again, to huddle in her jacket on a windy winter’s day or swelter in the hot tropical sun with a cool mojito in her hand.
And Torin would get her there. She had to believe it.
Boom! Something exploded from behind. Loud! The ringing noise started again, and it felt as if someone had clapped their hands over her ears. All sound was muted. Debris swirled all around her, and something hard—a stray object—hit her in the backs of her thighs.
Keep moving. Keep moving.
It was the only thing she could do right now; the only thing that stopped her from surrendering to her stupid insecurity. To admit to herself that she was powerless here, that she had to rely on another to survive… that was hard.
Humbling.
Liberating.
If it was Torin doing the saving, then that was okay.
She held Kvorae and Parrus tightly, her fingers digging into their furry wrists. Together, they drifted into the outer chamber, where bits of wood, metal, glass, and smoke churned through the air.
Chaos.
“Persephone.” Torin’s voice was a low rumble. He grabbed her and pulled her close. Suddenly, she was pressed against his armor-hardened body. He hooked one leg around hers, keeping her still as he floated in one spot, somehow keeping still amidst all the chaos.
The flying debris and ash couldn’t touch him. He was the calm in the center of the storm; the anchor.
And when she was with him, nothing could touch her.
He turned to the Veronians. “Parrus, Kvorae, you will follow. I expect there will be chaos in the halls. Bartharrans fighting, enemy attackers, panicked passengers. Try and keep up, but if you can’t, find somewhere to hide, somewhere as far away from this point as possible. I will try and protect you as best as I can, but I can’t protect all three of you all the time, and my first priority is Seph.” He gave his plasma gun to Parrus. “You’ve borrowed this before. Take it now, and remember what happens to big forces in zero gravity.” To Kvorae, he gave his long knife. “This will cut anything, even Bartharran metal. Be careful, as you have no sheath.”
“S-sir, I…”
“Take it.”
The Veronian looked to Seph for guidance. Seph nodded in encouragement. There was no time for hesitation. Take it. Cautiously, reverently, Kvorae took the knife, as if the Callidum might burn her hands. “Th-thank you, Master.”
Boom!
Seph glanced over her shoulder. Impossibly, the floor was starting to crack.
“We have to go. I will warn you, the corridor is full of smoke. Close your eyes and hold your breath. Are you ready, Seph?”
She looked at him, searching his face. Despite the harsh note of command in his voice, his expression was soft, almost tender. His eyebrows were drawn together in that slightly quizzical way, a crease forming between them. His lips hovered somewhere between a smile and a frown, as if he couldn’t settle upon a single emotion.
Her heart swelled.
This was Torin, the hardest, most brutal, caring, and loving man she’d ever met.
“I’m ready,” she said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. He placed his hand behind her head, tucking her into him.
Holding her close.
And all Seph could do was trust him, because that was what she’d decided to do from the very beginning, and he had never let her down.
Chapter Twenty-One
As they emerged from Relahek’s quarters, Seph coughed. Torin gently patted her back as they moved, drifting away from all the ash and smoke.
Distant sounds of fighting reached his ears, coming from both directions.
Fuck.
Explosions from beneath their chambers, and fighting all around them. He was stuck between a…
What was the human phrase for it? The General’s wife had explained it to him.
Between a rock and a hard place.
With all that firepower coming from below, staying put wasn’t an option. Torin had briefly contemplated taking Relahek with them, but he couldn’t risk it. The noble was untrustworthy, and there was no way Torin was going to put Seph’s safety at risk for the sake of the man who had tried to buy her.
Locked in the storage chamber, the fiend would probably only survive if he got very lucky.
Let him burn. Being the savage Kordolian that he was, Torin thought that was a perfectly acceptable fate for an idiot like Relahek.
How spectacularly he’d screwed this mission up, to the point where he couldn’t even retrieve his target for questioning. Torin would be in for a world of hurt when he returned to base, but he couldn�
��t care less.
As long as he had Seph, the entire fucking Universe could burn down around them and he wouldn’t care.
As long as she was safe.
But she wasn’t safe, not yet.
Left, or right? Either side posed a threat. He looked one way, then the other.
Ba-BOOM! A great shockwave reverberated through the floor, through the walls, coming from directly below. Whoever was shooting, or blasting, or whatever was probably doing so directly from the hold.
Aiming at the passenger area, and maybe specifically at Relahek’s quarters.
Why?
No time to think about that now. Just get out.
He held Seph as he was flung up against the ceiling, his back—swords and all—crashing into the solid surface.
That actually hurt. Torin was eternally grateful he was taking the blow and not her.
Parrus managed to grip the edge of the doorway with his tail. He caught Kvorae with one hand, straining to keep her in his grasp before she flew down the corridor. She snaked her tail around Parrus’s waist, tethering herself to him.
They waited until the shaking died down.
We have to move. This is only going to get worse.
“Follow,” he gestured to the Veronians, wrapping his arms around Seph. He kicked against the wall at an angle, propelling them a great distance before they touched the wall again.
Kick. Kick. Kick. Faster and faster they moved, rebounding off the walls.
The hallways here were deserted. Alerted by the noise from below, the other passengers were probably long gone. Muffled explosions continued to rock the lower decks, becoming louder, coming ever closer.
The sounds of combat grew louder in Torin’s ears too—grunts, the clash of blades against armor, shouts of anger and pain—all slowed and skewed and distorted, because the absence of gravity messed up everything. The others couldn’t hear them yet, but Torin could.
“What’s your plan, Torin?” Seph lifted her head and stared straight ahead.
Shit. All of his actions so far were based on assumptions. For the first time in his long and bloody career, Torin realized he didn’t have even an inkling of a plan.
Explosions coming from one side, enemies from the other.
And they were stuck in the middle.
Too late!
A Bartharran appeared at the far end. He was locked in vicious close-quarters combat with…
A Plutharan!
“Invaders,” Torin growled, stabbing his claws into the wall to stop himself from flying straight into their path. He clutched Seph tightly as the Plutharan and the Bartharran spun past, locked in combat, liquid droplets of blood floating around them. The crimson-skinned Plutharan wore a breathing apparatus connected to a mask that covered his lower face.
Shit. They don’t care if they blow out the hull and cause an oxygen leak. Perhaps they’re expecting it. Plunder all, destroy all. Isn’t that what they say?
The Plutharans were distant relatives of the Bartharrans, and as was usually the case with races that were the same-but-different, they hated each other’s guts.
“Plutharan!” Seph gasped. “We’ve been boarded!”
“By force, it seems. I think this is a raid.”
“Pirates?”
“That would be my guess. I’m going to let go of you so I can use my hands. Put your arms around me.” He took the plasma gun from the pouch at her waist and aimed it at the warring aliens. If any of them tried to touch Seph, Torin would blast them into oblivion.
Seemingly oblivious to them, the two big aliens flew past in a flurry of blood and fury, their red and gold skin contrasting so strikingly as they grappled with one another.
The Bartharran hooked an arm around the Plutharan’s neck and tried to choke him to death.
Boom! Another massive blast thundered from below. Several more Bartharrans came down the corridor, followed by Plutharans with long silver swords. Their blades rippled with blue static energy. The big, muscular Bartharrans moved surprisingly well, darting off the walls at great speed, navigating the zero-G like seasoned experts.
The passageway was starting to look a little crowded. Torin contemplated a hasty retreat, but he couldn’t take Seph back there. Catching the wrong end of one of those explosions could be devastating for her.
A thick curtain of smoke drifted toward them from the direction in which they had come, moving so slowly it almost appeared to be at a standstill.
Now they definitely couldn’t go back there. Torin could handle the smoke, but the others?
Not a chance in all the Nine Hells.
One by one, more aliens drifted into their space, arms and legs flying as they fought viciously. Knives came out. Electrocharged blades severed and cauterized limbs at the same time. A booted foot drifted past, having been removed from its owner’s leg.
Seph cursed in English and put a hand to her mouth, trying not to retch.
I need to get her out of here! Torin’s head was about to explode. The amount of danger Seph was in, and his inability to take her away from it all… it was driving him nuts.
Where the fuck to? Not up, not down, not backward, not forward. Maybe through the wall, but then he would briefly have to stop shielding her as he cut through the thick metal.
Debris and blood and pirates were flying all over the place, turning the narrow corridor into a topsy-turvy battlefield. The Bartharrans and the Plutharans seemed too caught up in their own vicious war to notice Torin and Seph, until…
A fierce, yellow-skinned Bartharran came flying straight at them, his long braids swirling about his face. His arms were outstretched, and in one hand was a silver blade.
Aiming straight for Torin’s eye.
Torin swore as he summoned his exo-helm, maneuvering his body so that Seph was completely protected. The Bartharran’s blade came swiftly, piercing the bare skin above his cheek just before his armor could fully form.
Another blast rumbled from below, rocking the ship. Torin whipped his sword out and removed the Bartharran’s head from his body.
Globules of blood floated into the air, along with the severed head. With a sharp intake of breath, Seph tucked her head in and closed her eyes.
Then her terrified scream split the chaos, sinking a great hook into Torin’s heart and pulling hard.
No! It was unforgivable that she should feel this way.
He looked down. Two more Bartharrans had appeared out of nowhere, and they were trying to grab her legs. Golden hands curled around her.
You do not touch my mate!
Torin aimed powerful kicks at their heads, the muscles in his arm flexing as he clung to the wall. In turn, Seph hung onto him for dear life. Finally, the Bartharrans released her as they were slammed into the floor with the force of his powerful kicks.
Seph clutched him tightly. Torin desperately wanted to drag her away and reassure her, but the Bartharrans weren’t done. They surrounded Torin and Seph, arms, blades, and legs flying from all directions. One of them managed to grab Seph by her upper arm, even as she held Torin tightly.
“Get the fuck off me!” She flailed about, trying to break free of the massive alien. Torin’s gun arm swung around, but the Bartharran was pressed right up against them, and he couldn’t unleash the plasma blast so close to Seph.
The flare would burn her. It could even kill her.
Chaos!
Madness!
Another Bartharran dragged her from below with great force. Torin pulled his claws out of the wall, and they floated upward. Thwack! His throwing knife kissed the alien’s eye socket. The golden-skinned warrior screamed and released her.
More hands fell upon her, grabbing her, caressing her, pulling her with great force even though she gripped Torin’s torso with all her might. Enough. He holstered his gun and found his twin blades. This ends now!
But just as he was about to turn the air around them into a sea of blood, his battle-sense told him to flick a glance over his shoulder.
A lone Plutharan floated behind him, plasma gun raised.
About to fire.
Torin’s blood ran cold. At such close quarters, a plasma flare would hit his body and momentarily engulf him, burning Seph in the process.
“No!” he shouted in Kordolian as he saw the alien’s finger twitch.
Torin’s world narrowed down into microfragments of time. It all happened so fast, in less than a fraction of a blink of an eye, but everything felt so slow. He tried to make his back as broad and impenetrable as possible, vainly hoping to shield her, but in truth, he knew he had only one chance to save her life.
The solution came to him in a quick, terrible flash of realization.
His heart protested furiously. I can’t let her go!
But then the cold veil intruded on his mind, and all of his brutal training kicked in.
If he didn’t let go of her now, she would die.
I’m sorry, my love.
He let go of his swords, removed her arms from his torso, and pushed, and it was the most terrible, painful thing he’d ever done in his life, especially when she looked back at him like that, with confusion and anger and fear swirling in her beautiful eyes.
And just like that, she was sucked into a sea of massive golden-skinned Bartharrans, the males pulling her away from Torin with great force and speed.
What the fuck do they want with her?
She disappeared.
Torin screamed in anger, cursing the Goddess for forcing him to make such a terrible choice.
Blam! The plasma fire came, roaring and massive, much bigger than he expected, spreading outward, growing wider and wider as the Plutharan was thrown back through the air by the sheer force of it.
A lurid green flare engulfed his body, and if not for his protective exo-armor, he would have been burned to a crisp.
Torin was thrown forward without his swords. Excruciating pain lanced through his back, as if he’d been stabbed a thousand times with a burning sword. He put out his hands as he crashed into a wall of bodies, desperately pulling several grunting Bartharrans aside, throwing them across the corridor.
“Where is she?” he roared, unsheathing his claws, sinking them into Bartharran armor and flesh. “You can’t take her away. She is mine!”